Switchblade: BETA
by Aseptic
Summary: AU, G Revolution Era. Tyson doesn't escape the forestfire, and the Beyblading World loses its reigning champion. However, life must go on and that's when Kai notices his grandfather is up to something very suspicious. KaixRei, abandoned. See profile.
1. Zero One

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Switchblade BETA: Zero-One

X X X

Fire was and always had been the cruelest of Mother Nature's forces, with flames that showed no mercy against flesh or foliage, tearing great scars in the landscape that took generations to heal. Whilst forest fires were common by arson, those created by Mother Nature herself were not, much less concurrently with a storm.

Of course, as Tyson Granger had rapidly found out, fire was unpredictable enough to spring up at the worst times – and this would unquestionably be one of the worst. For what felt like hours he had run before the flames, looking for a place to hide and escape the fire – a cave, a riverbank, water, just _something_ that would let him stop long enough to rest. His hat had been lost long ago, carried away by the winds that urged the flames higher. With nothing to act as a ventilator, Tyson had to draw in deep breaths of smoke-filled air, trying to fuel leg muscles that were steadily refusing to work.

Coffee-brown eyes darted back and forth across the scenery he tore through, searching for some form of salvation – when the dark blue of water caught his attention, the Champion bolted for it without a second's thought. He reached the river quickly and in an eagerness to get away from the flames, stumbled down the bank at breakneck speed. Stopping at the river's edge, Tyson crouched, scooping up handfuls and splashing it across his face. The spring water was revitalising, deliciously cool in an environment where the heat was everywhere.

Once his thoughts had cleared, the boy dug his hand into his pocket, pulling out a small metallic object. Inspecting it carefully for damage, Tyson allowed a small grin. "You're okay, Dragoon?" He asked, turning the Beyblade over in his hands to look at all angles. "That's good. I'll get Kenny to run a diagnostic when we get home, 'kay?" Looking to the swirling waters for a moment, an uncharacteristic frown crossed his face. "Daichi better be okay too," he added quietly.

The boys had separated quickly, driven apart by falling debris from the forest canopy. They had agreed to see each other on the other side of the forest, but Tyson wasn't naïve. He knew enough about the real world to know that it would take a miracle to survive this. Strength came in numbers, and here he was alone with naught but a Bitbeast.

Lost in a moment's worth of brooding thoughts, Tyson was never aware of company.

He had no idea that an unfamiliar boy had followed him through the forest, or that the same boy was creeping up behind him.

It wasn't until a thick branch thudded into the back of his skull, that Tyson realised the riverbank was not as safe as it ought to have been – but by then, the darkness consumed him and it was far too late.

****

X X X

__

Get the Beyblade; he'd been told_. Follow the teenager through the forest, take the Beyblade, and get away from the fire. We'll give you money to do it._

It was nice in theory, but now the task was complete, the orphan had to question – what did he do with the Beyblade afterwards? Poised on the edge of the flaming trees and the riverbank, he hesitated. The Champion lay prone on the embankment, sprawled where he had fallen, water from the river licking at him.

However much he wished it, the street kid couldn't afford to worry about the Champion. He already had the Beyblade; Tyson was already unconscious; now all that was left was to get away from the fire.

Turning away, he kept Dragoon tightly held in one hand, and broke into a run. The boy ran for longer than he cared to think about, weaving his way through the parts of the forest that had not yet been touched by fire. Finally, strength exhausted, he stopped – the orphan's body wouldn't be able to run any further. Leaning against the trunk of a thick tree, his thin frame heaved, trying to suck in enough air for his body to keep functioning.

The smoke was thickening and it made it all the more difficult: with no experience of fires, the boy didn't know it would be safer if he was closer to the ground. Instead, when the decreased oxygen earned him a drowsy feeling, the street kid didn't fight it, eyes slipping closed. As far as he was concerned, the fire had not yet come through this area – it would be safe. He could stop… and rest… and sleep.

****

X X X

A grim line of teenagers and young adults stood waiting in the driveway of the forest-based training facility, watching the blackened trees in tense silence. Helicopters swooped overhead, dumping water across what remained of the foliage, dampening the wood that still smouldered. The storm had passed on some time ago, but the group had not been able to search for their missing companions – Tyson and Daichi had been forced to fend for themselves in the fire, drawing anxiety from their team and coach.

Of the five of them, Hiro was easily the most worried. He was the oldest and the most world-experienced; thus he was the one who had the most realistic view of what this fire meant. The odds of Daichi and Tyson surviving… however much he wanted to hope, they were in fact very slim.

It didn't help that it was his _brother_ out there.

To his left stood Hilary, and to the right were Max and Kenny. All three were pale and tight-faced with worry. The only exception was Rei, who also stood to the left, but a small distance apart – he had come from a different part of the complex. His exterior spoke of calm which strained to stay in place, masking the insatiable need to get out there and to comb every hectare until he found the two.

"Alright, team." Hiro swallowed before he even attempted to keep talking – fear of the inevitable kept his mouth dry. "Let's get going."

As one unit they set off down the driveway, splitting into groups at the bottom. It was a prearranged system, so they could cover more ground – Kenny and Max would go together; Hiro with Hilary (seeing as he was the oldest and had to look after the girl); and Rei on his own. The Neko-jin hadn't bothered to complain – these forests were like the ones near his northern home, and he would move much faster through them by himself. Each group was armed with water, flare guns, and first-aid kits: "what-if" circumstances had already been discussed.

Once separating from the others of his team, Rei wasted very little time. As he moved deeper into the burnt forest, the Blader's initial hopes for any sort of survival diminished by the second. Everywhere around him, it was deathly quiet – there were no birds, no leaves for the wind to brush through. There were no animals fleeing from the presence of a human, and no company to talk with.

Overall, it was _very_ creepy.

The ground was still hot, even under the soles of his shoes. Rei wasn't surprised when he looked down and encountered grey cloth instead of white – it would take forever to clean his robes.

Fate, however, had an actual surprise for him to run into.

Ducking under a precariously hanging branch, Rei flipped his long hair out of the way as he straightened. Not for the first time, the Chinese wiped his damp-with-sweat fringe from his eyes, leaving a long black streak of soot behind. Deciding to stop and catch his breath, Rei turned to get his bearings – and came face to face with a very _unexpected_ being.

" – _Kai_?"

****

X X X

Kai's day had not been the best in history. Once he had heard about the forest fire, there was no stopping the Russian – against the wishes of his new team, Kai had prepped himself and headed out.

He knew he was tough, and knew what he was capable of – a fire like this was not going to stand in the way of his battle against Tyson.

After all, he wasn't in the Tournament for _fun_, now was he?

Once the hike began he had of course headed towards the river – even if the Champion didn't, hopefully Daichi had enough sense in his mind to know that a large body of water would be best, if he wanted to survive.

Approaching the river, Kai had only taken a handful of steps when a clump of red to the distant right caught his attention. Whipping around, a cold chill swept across him as it became clear that the red was in fact Daichi's hair - his small body was caught between a group of rocks and a couple of tree trunks; right in the centre of the river.

Kai moved quickly towards the bank, discarding his scarf and shoes before sliding off the bank to sink waist-deep into the water. The water was surprisingly luke-warm, and full of small branches or debris from further upstream.

Kai made his way across the river, allowing the current to tug him along with the water flow until he could grab onto the rocks for stability. It was fortunate that there hadn't been much rain over the last few months, otherwise it would have been too deep for him to do this.

Was he alive? A touch to his neck said yes - Kai could feel the weak pulse. Noting, though, that the boy was unconscious, he released the breath he hadn't realised was being held. "You fool," he told Daichi in a quiet mutter, gathering the boy up. With a great deal of effort, and more stumbles than he would have admitted amongst company, Kai struggled back to the bank. He hauled Daichi's limp form out of the water before clambering out himself; falling to all fours and gasping for breath once the task was complete.

The jungle-boy hadn't stirred once during the whole thing, which made the Russian a teensy bit worried. Eager to keep moving, he forced himself to his feet once more, and gathered the boy's form in his arms. At a slow, dogged pace, Kai set off into the trees. The closest building would be the training facility – it would be doubtlessly be the Emergency Services' temporary HQ; thus the best place to head for help.

Once amongst the trees, it was plain that Kai didn't have eyes in the back of his head. Something overhead CRACKED ominously – he glanced upwards in time to see a log – no, a _branch_ – plummet from above, pulled by gravity straight down towards himself and Daichi.

"Shit –"

Kai had _no_ time to get out of the way. The best he could do was make a mad lunge for the side, holding onto Daichi's form tightly so the boy wouldn't sustain any _more_ injuries.

The branch and Kai slammed into the ground at the same time, centimetres from each other. The impact was enough to stun Kai into unconsciousness – he didn't hear bones crack; feel the searing pain...nor see the darkness of the world around him.

And when Rei stumbled upon their two forms, he never heard the exclamation, either.

****

X X X

__

My ribs hurt.

It was a notion that sliced his hazy consciousness in two, giving way for a storm of half-formed thoughts which swirled around in his head like a fog. Brilliant red eyes opened slowly, blinking once or twice until they could focus on the ceiling overhead.

__

Where is this?

Instinct (and a certain amount of childhood paranoia) told him that the place wasn't one he knew, which meant it could be dangerous. Naturally, the first thing he did was try to sit up. The idea was almost instantly put on hold: a sharp pain raced down one side of his body, triggered by the slight shift of weight onto an arm he'd been using. It buckled and Kai unexpectedly fell back to lay flat. He sucked in a breath until the pain subsided, refusing to wince or yelp.

__

What was that?

For the first time, Kai realised that his shirt had been replaced with neatly wrapped linen bandages. He didn't have the faintest idea who had done it or where it had come from, but it didn't take a genius to figure that he was injured somehow. Needless to say, this was something he found more than a little irritating; living in Russia (and later being captain of a world-class team) had given him a certain affinity for needing to know what was going on _all the time._

So wisely remaining on his back, Kai kept one ear on the door and began digging for memories.

When those recollections came forth, they were unforgiving. The acrid smell of burning wood; the heat of raging fire; the thick, black smoke that made one suffocate... And Daichi's limp body, floating in the water.

__

Shit.

"Kai?"

He couldn't help the twitch that ran through him when someone else's voice probed the silent room. Without waiting to see who had spoken to him, Hiwatari pulled himself up, learning from the earlier mistakes and treating the injury carefully. Despite his efforts it still stung like all hell, but this time he'd expected it: that made all the difference to his body language.

He scanned the room until he found the doorway - and the form standing there: Rei.

"How're you feeling?" The youth held a tray in both hands, a glass of water and a bowl appearing to be the only things on it. He was watching with an anxious expression that Kai didn't like; this calmness felt surreal for a reason he didn't yet know.

__

What have I missed?

For Rei, the only answer was an inquest of Kai's own. "What's going on?" He could tell from the forced smile that Rei had expected a question like that: Kai felt a twinge of annoyance that he was becoming predictable. It was covered up with an impatient add-on to the question, "Well?"

"You shouldn't be sitting up," the neko-jin told him quietly, moving further into the room. He stopped next to the futon and knelt, the tray balanced perfectly by one hand whilst he offered the glass to Kai.

"The last thing I'm concerned about is my health," was the answer. Despite the tone, the glass was taken with wordless gratitude.

"You got hit by a tree," Rei reminded him, settling on the floor. "And earned a few injured ribs. I'd reconsider that, you know."

"My question hasn't been answered."

Kai would never admit it, even when he reflected on this scene later – but when Rei's only response was a soft sigh and a murmur of 'I know', he felt a twinge of fear. He chose to stay quiet now, until the other could answer. A blind man could have seen that Rei was composing himself, working his way to saying something that he would dread.

"We found you about two days ago, just after the fire was put out. Daichi's a little burnt but he's alright, he's walking around already." Kai watched two of Rei's fingers fiddle with the end of his hair, something that he'd never seen him do before – did it mean he was hiding something? After all, this was very interesting information to learn, but he'd skipped out on the one thing that Kai wanted to know.

As things were, he had only set foot in that forest for one reason – to find the Champion.

So where _was_ Tyson?

"That's not everything," the youth said warily.

Rei let out another sigh, this one defeated. Kai found himself watching in fascination as the Beyblader, normally so composed and calm, fidgeted a little more, moved as if to stand up and then changed his mind… He scratched his nose and he stared at the floor. Then he looked up to the ceiling, took a deep breath, and looked him in the eye.

"We found him yesterday. The fire made it hard, but… He's dead."

__

He's dead?

It rung through Kai's ears as his eyes widened in shock. He found himself unable to say anything, transfixed by the fragile look Rei was giving him: the look that threatened a shattering of composure if he so much as dared to challenge this devastating truth.

__

He's not allowed to be dead.

Some part of Kai's brain flicked a switch to connect his confused mind to his tongue once more. The first words out were ones that hadn't paid an ounce of attention to the frailty of the situation. "I don't believe you."

"Kai…" Rei's shoulders slumped, his eyes misting over with the threat of tears. Still, Kai couldn't look away. "We found Dragoon _in his hands_."

__

How can he be dead?

It was a suffocating thought that thickly clouded his mind, closing his throat and endangering the tight control that Kai kept over himself at every waking moment.

With a start, he realised that Rei was getting up, taking the tray with him. He'd lost track of time and, it seemed, the ability to speak at all – he could only watch as the fellow Beyblader made his way to the door, pausing there to look back over his shoulder.

"The funeral's on Thursday. I'm sorry, Kai."

The click of the shutting door put a definitive end to the conversation.

Kai sat forward, ignoring the way his ribs protested the motion. He lifted the glass of water still in his hand to rest it against his forehead soothing a faint headache that he could feel. "So what am I supposed to do now?" he muttered quietly. "How can I be the _best_ if I can't defeat you, Tyson?" He straightened a little, fingers slipping into a pocket and pulling out Dranzer. Fingers pressed it tightly into his palm, watched absently by the Russian. "I'm going to have to start finding a way, aren't I?" Bracingly, Kai pulled himself to his feet, where he wavered for a moment until his injury quieted.

He started for the door, head held high in a refusal to give in to either his physical wound or this newer one; this _situation_ that said the world's Champion was no more. His gut feeling said that Tyson wasn't gone – no matter what the others said, or did, or wanted him to think, they couldn't change that notion. He wasn't going to give in to this; he was going to be the best and he was going to defeat Tyson to do it.

"You watch yourself, Champion," Kai said, looking to the ceiling as he walked. "I'm coming for you."

****

X X X

It was a sober group that gathered their suitcases that day. There had barely been any time at all to unpack them in the first place and now, in violent contrast to the laughing, bubbling collection of Beybladers who had arrived only a day and a half ago, they all bundled into the van without a word. Not one of them threw so much as a glance over his shoulder towards the forest that had claimed Tyson's life.

Kai watched them from his room, arms folded and expression stony. As the doors slammed shut and they departed, his gaze swept across to the trees which surrounded the facility. From this high up, the acres of forest seemed to go on forever. In pockets and long streaks, one could see the telltale signs of the forest fire that had ripped through the landscape. It would take generations for the scar to heal, something that mattered little to those in closest affiliation with the former World Champion.

They had scars of a different nature now; ones that plunged deep under the surface, changing the hurt to something far more personal.

****

X X X

****

To be continued.


	2. Zero Two

Switchblade Beta - Zero-Two.

****

**X X X**

Cities always looked the same when it rained - they had the same grey, drizzled atmosphere.

St. Petersburg was no different.

There were umbrellas to be seen everywhere; endless coloured shapes that hid the heads of the people who bustled along the path. Not even rain could stop the busy life of city folk. Those who weren't in such a hurry and lacked the good fortune to be armed with such water-repelling items scurried towards the closest sheltered spot, fearful of the moment when the light rain turned to something much harder.

On the border of uncharacteristically, one Russian Blader deigned fit to do something similar; steering himself off of the main drag and to a closeted little alley where he could comfortably wait for the rain to stop before moving on.

_The great Kai Hiwatari, _he grumbled to himself as he found a suitably dry post, _Leader of the Sharks, member of the Demolition boys, coach of the Blade Breakers… Sheltering under a rusted awning, waiting for the rain to stop so he can find some lunch. _There was something remarkably pathetic about such a concept, he decided.

As he stood there and waited for the rain to pass, Kai couldn't help a casual surveillance of his damp environment. The alley was more of a dead-end than a thoroughfare; the narrowness of the buildings he stood between giving way to a small but sheltered courtyard. from where he stood Kai could hear rather than see several kids who occupied it, ringed around someone who appeared to be the ringleader.

"That's so cool, Luke! Did you really qualify?"

Despite his wishes of quiet and solitude, it seemed that Kai was not going to be saved from the children's distant conversation. It served him right, he supposed, for sheltering somewhere so closeted - everything echoed.

"Of course I did, kid."

He found himself grimacing at the arrogance of the tone, then wondering if the youth had the skill to match the attitude.

Surely, whatever he had qualified at was something Kai could best him in.

_Get a hold of yourself, _he chided, _They're kids and they're just that. You have better things to do than bully some would-be ._

His thoughts were rudely interrupted by instincts which had suddenly started screaming at him - some kind of small airborne missile was coming straight for him. Trusting them blindly, Kai's hand shot out, knocking it away with the back of his hand. The impact stung and he muffled a curse, watching the … whatever it was clatter to the ground and roll a few paces away from him.

With a blink, he realised it was an amateur's Beyblade.

Bending to pick it up, the group of kids came flying around the corner. Lest Kai be trampled, they were forced to stop abruptly, feet finding a slippery purchase on the wet pavement under their feet. From the collective expression of the group, they didn't know what to make of the situation - that this man had stopped the renegade Beyblade, or that he looked weirdly familiar.

Perhaps it was just the predatory aura that naturally surrounded Kai.

They stood like that for some time; this confused group of children and the bemused adult. Finally, it was Kai who straightened, passing the Blade to the nearest child. "Be more careful next time, yeah?" he muttered to them.

"Sorry mister," one of them breathed. "It was Kyle, there -"

An indignant noise was made from the rear; he assumed this was Kyle.

"- he was just showin' off," another finished. Kai recognised it immediately as the arrogant one.

He tilted his head with the same bemusement, crimson eyes studying the boy intently. "To impress you, hm?"

The youth had the grace to look abashed. "I 'spose," he said slowly.

Kyle had had enough. He elbowed his way to the front, huffed, then said in one long breath, "It's just 'cause around here, we don' really have much t'do, 'cause there ain't much money and all we got is Blades, mister, and we ain't too good at it yet but Luke's the firs' one to qualify for anythin' in just ages, so it's gots us thinkin' that maybe we'll be good 'nuff to qualify next year."

At the end of the tirade, Kai had one simple question. "Qualified for what?" he asked, scanning the group.

Each of them looked equally mortified that he didn't know the answer.

"The _tourney_, mister!"

"For…?"

"The BBA _Championships_!"

Kai's stomach plummeted to his ankles, all earlier thoughts of lunch abandoned. ".. I forgot it was on," he said after a great length.

It was hard to say whether such a statement was meant for himself or for the children; but from the way that the Russian then turned away and walked out of the alley without so much as a goodbye or good luck, perhaps it was meant for neither.

****

**X X X**

Ten minutes later, Kai Hiwatari found himself standing in front of the local BBA Centre. The banner strung over the entrance bid all Bladers welcome and true to form, the boulevard which led to the building itself was littered with athletes of all ages - from the young like the kids in the alley to those closer to his own age. Some of them mingled in groups whilst others warmed up and practised relentlessly: the range of familiar sights and smells had begun to give Kai an uneasy feeling.

In an abrupt decision he stepped forward, walking straight for the main entrance. There was a lengthy queue for those who wanted to spectate; Kai boldly strode past them.

Some years ago, out of what he assumed was pity, the members of the former Blade Breakers were given certain… perks. For the most part it was trivial things - sitting in the Official's box, an automatic invitation to any Black Tie events; most of it consisted of things that Kai would never remotely consider doing.

The only one that came in handy was this: queue-jumping.

When a marshal at the head of the line motioned for him to stop, Kai lifted his hand - in it was the little laminated piece of card that let him go anywhere on BBA grounds.

Allowing himself a private smirk at the marshal's wordless response (a sound of disbelief and awkward gesturing), he swept through and into the building.

In the foyer, a news team had stationed itself just inside the large entrance doors, eagerly capturing as many interviews as they could. Knowing quite well that the media would have a field-day if they knew he was around, Kai swiftly moved through the foyer and into the stadium.

It took little time and even less effort for Kai to find himself a prime spectator's position; the second row (the first held more cameras and more news groups; all of which Kai determinedly kept his head turned away from) and a little to the left of the center, where he'd have enough of an angle to see both sides of the Beydish easily.

He settled down to watch the floor of the stadium, where two Bladers shouted commands (or the occasional insult) whilst their Blades pitted against each other in the plain dish.

Some years ago, the system of the Tournaments had been overhauled - there was now a Singles division and a Team division. Trials for each took place over two days - Teams on the first and Singles on the second. From the emptiness of the Pits on both sides of the arena, Kai judged it to be the latter; which explained some of that Luke's earlier pride.

The battle ended with what Kai recognised as a clever move; the use of evasive tactics until the opponent became too frustrated to pay attention to just how tall the sides of the dish were. All it took was time and some baiting. The nail was in the coffin before another minute passed - the Blade flew out of the dish and landed in a light patter by the loser's feet.

The stadium erupted - Kai found himself jostled and pushed from two sides at once; the seats on either side of him were the hosts of euphoric locals, who where madly jumping on their seats.

In the time it took for the crowds to quieten, the competitors had left and the stage was reset. Kai waited with limited patience to see who would take the next round; though privately he had already decided that this would be another year for raw talent to remain elusive, another year for him to not bother competing in.

Ever since the loss of the World Champion, the pickings in the tournament had been slim at best.

Even if it had been five years.

He still hadn't found anyone truly worthy of the title Champion.

Until he did, Kai refused to enter. He wanted to be the best, sure - that ambition was still a strongly burning one. But he was not going to spend year after year defeating mediocre Bladers and being handed such an empty title for doing so.

To be the Champion meant you were the best; meant you couldn't be defeated. It did not mean that you could defeat every amateur who came along without so much as batting an eyelid.

Kai was still looking for someone of Tyson's skill - someone that would make his blood sing when he fought them; someone who would push and drive him to the brink of defeat; someone who would be worth defeating.

Then the title would mean something.

_But pending that…_ Kai found his gaze drawn downwards, towards the small, blue Blade that had slipped into his hand in the midst of these thoughts. _You and me are still in retirement. _The Blade glowed softly in response to Kai's words as it replied. Unheard by anyone else, they brought a lopsided smile to his face.

The great Kai Hiwatari; Leader of the Sharks, member of the Demolition boys, coach of the Blade Breakers… retired.

Yeah. There was something most definitely pathetic about that.

That was when he felt something focused on him; something paying more attention than what was necessary. Naturally seeking the source, Kai found it to be one of the cameras a row in front - clearly, he'd been spotted by the man wielding such an infernal machine. With a scowl, Kai folded his arms and looked away; the body language was clear - _leave me alone._ He could just imagine the commentator's chatter over his spontaneous appearance at such a rudimentary level of the tournament.

Surprisingly, the hint was taken. For that, Kai was grateful. Even after five years, they couldn't think of new questions. Having never been one for publicity even back when he'd actively competed, he had long ago lost patience with questions, cameras, spokespeople and interviews - of _all _types.

The camera moved away to continue a passing surveillance of the crowds - so it, and the people at the other end, never saw the moment that Kai nearly leapt out of his seat.

He had been waiting (with less and less patience by the moment) for the next round to begin, watching the half-lit corridors from which they would emerge.

When the one almost directly across from him showed its first signs of movement, Kai found himself sitting forward with unexpected anticipation. He felt it, rather than saw it - not something easily explainable, but something that called him to that battlefield; made him wish that he was the final opponent of the day.

It was an old feeling; one he'd forgotten about - the quiet hum of challenge in his bones that seemed to consume the entirety of his rational thoughts.

The youth, definitely male, looked to be tall from a distance, a look which was enhanced by the navy-coloured uniform he wore. It was difficult, really, to see much detail - Kai noted to himself that later, he would have to find a recording of the match and study the male closely.

And then he saw the Blade he was carrying.

The sight of the black metal had Kai out of his seat before he knew what he was doing. Two hands braced his weight against the empty seat in front of him, form leaning towards the arena as he stared in disbelief.

_That's just not possible,_ he told himself. _Maybe it's just coincidental. There have to be other Beyblades that colour, after all - it doesn't mean it's Black Dranzer._

Kai had never liked 'maybes' or 'ifs' or 'buts'. Things were exactly as they appeared to be - even at surface value, if you looked at them right. So if the Beyblade looked like Black Dranzer, it _was_ Black Dranzer.

The thought was not a comforting one.

Mystified as to how a Blader had obtained a Bitbeast that was supposed to be under constant protection at Max's lab, Kai turned his attention back to the Blader, searching for details. As he did so, the two opponents arrived at the Dish. The one that Kai was watching had a curious silence to him; a certain trait that he'd learnt over the years to not only be manifested in his own personal style, but almost anyone who passed under the strict training of his Grandfather.

_You're behind this, aren't you?_ he asked of his relative silently. There was no doubt in his mind - only a man like Boris could obtain a Bitbeast that no-one was supposed to have.

The referee performed his usual pre-match routine.

The athletes prepared.

The Blades were launched.

The crowds cheered.

In all of fifteen seconds, a bright green Beyblade flew out of the dish and landed on the ground.

At the loser's mortified groan, it shattered into a million useless pieces.

Kai smiled grimly, his expectations fulfilled.

The crowd was hushed - it didn't know what to do or how to react.

And spinning with perfect innocence in the middle of the dish was Black Dranzer.

****

**X X X**

To be continued.


	3. Zero Three

****

Switchblade Beta: Zero-Three.

X X X

"Kenny?" The voice reverberated across aluminium and tiled surfaces alike. Several glass instruments reflecting a flicker of motion as a young man slipped past them, each movement watched carefully by bright blue eyes. He was carefully navigating his way through a part of the laboratory he didn't often venture to; trying desperately to avoid breaking anything. A few test-tubes wobbled threateningly when he passed, as if to say, _One more hair, buddy._

The white lab coat that he wore was typical of employees within his profession, though his youth wasn't so much so. Still, with the family credentials he had, and his bottomless reliability, the Chairman had been hard-pressed to find anyone better suited for the job.

Or for that matter, anyone who wouldn't drive Kenny mad by interfering with his work.

At the end of the narrow path, a fellow scientist when bolting past, a box of tools in one hand and half a dozen gadgets in the other.

He stopped, unable to hide the rueful grin at the sight of his friend.

"Kenny - there you are! We're going to be late."

"Hang on!" was Kenny's answer. He deposited his cargo on a small workbench, adding to six different piles of… well, most people called it 'clutter.'" He picked up a Beyblade and one of the tools, fixing a flaw that only his eyes could see. "Just a little bit… more… there!" Apparently satisfied, the Beyblade was subject to a quick examination before being slipped into a lab coat pocket.

"You're done?" the first scientist asked, a grin highlighting his good natured approach to the situation.

"Yeah. I hope that Hiro likes the modifications. The calibrations weren't easy -" Even as he spoke there wasn't a break in movement, the six piles of clutter being swooped together to convert to one large mass. Like the test-tubes, it now also threatened to give in to gravity.

Max eyed it warily. He could half-hear Kenny's words, catching the occasional phrase such as 'launch thrust' and 'revolutionary balancing system,' but didn't pay it much attention. Over the years, his friend had developed a certain habit of constantly being on the move; a characteristic which seemed to drive many people nuts. Max didn't mind it, not so much - he knew where it came from; knew the psychological root.

And frankly, he hadn't seen any of them cope any better.

"I know, Chief. You can tell me on the way," he said finally, turning to retreat from this ever-busy world which so clearly didn't belong to him. Kenny took the hint, checking he had his reports on the Beyblade in his pocket before following dutifully.

Together, one blonde and one brunette made for the door.

****

X X X

At the same moment one BBA scientist located another, a young woman stood in the doorway of the BBA Chairman's office, one hand on the doorknob and the other fiddling absently with a pen.

"Sir?" She was a pretty young thing with a pretty voice to match, glasses that accentuated doe-like eyes and stocking-covered legs which disappeared into high-heels to hide dainty feet.

It was nothing he hadn't seen before, though, which was part of the reason that the Chairman didn't turn to look at her. He was far too busy staring out the floor-to-ceiling windows which dominated his office, observing the thousands of people down on the ground. They moved like a great snake towards the BBA Stadium, spectators and competitors alike: just as they had for eight years now, and would for many more to come.

The woman - his secretary - wasn't sure if he'd heard her, at first. She was still new to the job, though she'd been warned by her predecessor of the Chairman's moody days.

He was awfully young, they said, to have such a high up position. Out of sympathy, they said, because there was no other reason that Mr. Dickinson would have given it to him. He was moody, they said, because he hated being there.

"How many days left?" he said finally, turning away from the window. Smooth steps carried him across the office towards the desk, where he sunk into the oversized chair like a hand to an ill-fitting glove.

When they said he was too young, they weren't wrong.

__

How many days left? It wasn't a question she'd been asked before; her hesitation in answering told him that much.

"Sir?"

"In the contract," he replied, collecting the nearest pile of papers and flicking through it idly. Apparently, her confusion didn't bother him a great deal; she was still new, he had to remember that.

The secretary was wracking her brain for the answer, calling to mind any contracts she'd heard mentioned recently. A certain three-year agreement came to mind, accompanied by relief that she knew the answer.

"… Fifty-three, sir."

Fifty-three? He tried not to appear too pleased with the news.

"Thank you. Now, what did you want?"

"The Ceremony starts in ten minutes, sir."

"So it does. Alright, thank you." He straightened his tie and grimaced at the reflection on his computer's screen. _Fifty-three days,_ he told himself. _You'll be out of here in less than two months. This is the last Tournament you have to open. Be strong, Hiro. _"I'll be back in half an hour."

****

X X X

I'm standing at the top of the main boulevard to the Champion's Stadium. There's a steady crowd of people in all directions; competitors and spectators alike are mingling on the streets and in restaurants. I half wonder if the stadium will fit them all.

Still, it doesn't really matter to me. I'm here for the Ceremony regardless of crowds - and unlike many, I'm guaranteed a seat.

Being VIP does, admittedly, have perks.

I re-shoulder the small backpack I've been carrying, and start to walk. Within the crowd I blend easily; I've been travelling too much for the media to get hold of me. They won't expect me to be here; it works immediately to my advantage. With a half hour until I need to be indoors, there's plenty of time to stroll casually along the street, to peer every now and again at different stores and their merchandise.

But as I walk, something about this particular BBA venue starts to bother me. Every year since Mr. Dickinson retired, the tournament has been started in the same place.

And it seems that, no matter how many weeks or months or seasons or even years pass (how many has it been, really?) it always looks the same. Even the trees look like they did last time, the boulevard has the same paving and there are still as many different types of people as the eye can be laid on.

I guess it's true to say that in the world of BBA tournaments; of rules and regulations and championships, the greatest upsets happened inside the Beydish. Everything else is remarkably pedestrian and unchanging.

I'm carried to the main entrance by the same leisurely pace that's carried me down the street and across the city. Unsurprisingly, there's no line to get in. The lack of people is a benefit: I give the marshals a nod and flip of ID (a further perk of being associated with Very Important Names) and slip on through without an ounce of difficulty in doing so.

It doesn't come as a surprise to find that the layout hasn't varied much and the halls are as immaculately clean as ever.

Nothing here has truly changed - I could have been a competitor again, leading my team down to their private room. A team of the best fighters I can find, ready to conquer the tournament and take the number one spot in the Beyblading world…

It's the sort of fantasized thought which leads me to lose track of time - before I realise it, I'm standing outside the door to the VIP box.

I can't help the sigh that escapes me, nor the slight shake of my head as I reach for the doorknob. Foolish thoughts, made of memories that are no good to me these days. My hand is just short of grasping it when something sudden and blue catches my attention. It's in the distorted reflection of the chrome under my fingers; a reflected streak of colour against the stark white of the halls.

There's no denying my eyes that it's there… but what is it?

I look over my shoulder, slowly. Most likely, it's an attendant who's gotten lost… or maybe it's some kind of room service. Hell, it could be Hiro for all I know - the man has blue hair, doesn't he?

The figure in question comes into my line of sight and all three thoughts are proven horribly wrong. It's not Hiro, it's not catering, and it's definitely not a lost official.

It's Kai.

Holy shit.

Immediately, my eyes squeeze shut. There's no way that' s him; Kai is in Russia… not that any of us really know for sure, but that's where he said he was going, when he turned retiree on us. It's been years, so why would Kai be here? At this event, most of all?

I'm clearly dreaming.

Opening first one eye, then the other, it doesn't work. He's still there, arms folded loosely and gaze locked with mine. A quirk to the corner of his mouth hints at bemusement.

"Hello, Rei," he says simply.

It takes every working iota of my mind to concoct the proper answer. Swallowing back any questions of disbelief, any outright exclamations, the best I can manage is a slow, half-mumbled "…Hi," in return.

"Can we talk?"

I don't know what's more surprising - that Kai, the no-nonsense, infamously cold-hearted, second-best-Blader has asked permission for something, or that Kai, the no-nonsense, infamously cold-hearted, second-best-Blader is actually standing across from me.

I never, ever thought he'd come… not to the Ceremony. He hasn't come once, not in five years.

Now he's showed up, out of the blue, and something about that simple question makes me think that he's not here for the occasion. A little bubble of anger wells up at the thought, even though I'm supposed to be flattered that he's here to see me.

"What about?" I ask. It's hard to not blurt the words out.

The little bubble is growing.

He glances down the hall first one way, then the other. It's empty, except for us, but he's still not satisfied. Turning, Kai gives me a look that I can't name.

"Come on," he tells me, "it's easier if I show you."

He starts walking; I don't follow. My hand is still on the doorknob, I'm not keen on doing anything that interrupts my carefully constructed plan.

"Show me what?" I ask.

It's only after I ask the question that Kai seems to notice I haven't followed. He pauses only long enough to look over his shoulder at me, that bemused smile back in its place. Somehow, it suits him better than the stern look he wears more often.

"It won't take long," he assures me, holding up a tape. I frown lightly.

"You'll make me late."

"For what, sitting in a chair you don't even like?"

I don't have an answer to that. What he says is true, but the point of it isn't supposed to be what I do or don't enjoy. It's the principle of the thing; I owe the next few hours to Tyson. Every year, they're set apart just for him. I can't let Kai walk all over that.

The bubble grows bigger; it's not little anymore.

"No, Kai," I begin, a little irritably.

He waves the tape idly. I sort of want to smack at it.

"Would I waste your time?"

The point is subtle, but a good one. Kai doesn't bother with things that aren't important; much less get other people involved. Logically speaking, that means that this has to be important. It's something he wants me to know and for some reason, has chosen right now to divulge it.

I let go of the door, relenting.

"Alright, Kai… Let's go."

****

X X X

He's taking the lead of the two of them, navigating flawlessly through corridors that seem to be turning into a labyrinth. By the time he stops, they're a long way from the Box - for that matter, they're a long way from the entire competition. It's exactly what he wants.

He stops halfway down a hallway lined by doors, opens opens one, and reveals a tiny little room furnished only with a TV and a table.

Without a pause, Kai steps forward and slides the tape into the VCR. It's obvious that Rei is unimpressed, but he doesn't let it phase him. This is far too important for second thoughts. Absently, he gestures to the chairs at the table, meaning for Rei to take a seat.

The Neko-jin doesn't move.

"You know I didn't come here to watch a video, right?"

It occurs to Kai that he's a lot more stubborn than when they were kids.

"Would I waste your time?" is Kai's answer, the TV clicked on by aid of remote. A deft hand pulls one of the chairs out for Rei to sit in, the aim behind the move anything but discreet.

Taking the hint, Rei sits. Kai allows a private nod of satisfaction. Stubborn, but negotiable.

"What is it even of?"

Kai takes a seat of his own, hitting the 'play'. The screen flickers to life, footage from a newscast begins.

"Why don't you just watch and see?" he asks, glancing to Rei confidently.

Rei frowns, but falls silent.

****

X X X

For twenty minutes, I'm treated to a strange montage of preliminary Tournament battles. They're the kind that are designed to identify the best in given regions; a progressive scheme that weeds out most amateurs before the Tournament really starts.

For some reason, one Blader in particular keeps coming up. He looks familiar, even if I can't place him immediately; it's in the way he stands there, at the edge of that televised Beydish.

When I see who his Beyblade is, though, the Blader himself flies out of my mind and I'm knocked for six. We're all familiar with the device and the Bitbeast, we all know that 'Boris' is synonymous with 'Black Dranzer'… and half a dozen other things besides. We all thought that it was under lock and key at Max's lab, not… _in use_. The sheer amount of danger that's associated is enough to make the hair on the back of my neck stand.

It goes without saying that this is what Kai wanted to show me. When the montage ends, I turn to him, but I can't speak. The words simply aren't coming, not until I've looked back at the (now blank) screen, then back to him.

"That was -" I can't finish the sentence, but he understands anyway.

"Yep."

"But what if -" Again, I can't get the words out. Kai shakes his head.

"It's Black Dranzer, Rei. You can't replicate a Bitbeast."

"Then what -?"

"I don't know."

Kai's gone to this much effort to show me something, then doesn't know the answers? It's unsettling to hear. I swallow, then manage my first coherent sentence of half an hour. "Then how can you be sure?"

"How many other black Beyblades are there?" he shoots back. Kai's never been able to handle doubts too well; though he's doing okay so far, I can see his patience diminishing.

"Yeah, it's strange. But…Kai…how close have you gotten to the Blade? What if there are other black ones out there?"

Kai can't hide his annoyance.

"You really want to take the risk that it is Black Dranzer?"

I sigh, sitting back in my chair. My next words are spoken carefully, slowly.

"I don't know that it's any of our business anymore, Kai."

I'm not looking at him, but I can feel his eyes narrow on me.

"You don't care?" he asks.

"Of course I _care_," I retort, sitting up a little. "But what can _we _do about it? If the Blader's handling an illegal Beyblade, that's for Hiro to deal with, not us."

When Kai doesn't say anything, I look to my old teammate cautiously. He's looking at me differently now - somehow, it feels as though he's disappointed.

"I thought you would have noticed," he says finally.

"Noticed what?"

"The Blader."

I'm speechless all over again. By the time I can talk again, Kai's got the tape back in hand and he's leaving. The bubble of anger pops - he's been gone for so long, I don't want him to go again, not this soon.

"I… yeah, he was kind of familiar," I concede in an effort to get him to stay.

It's too little, too late. Kai pauses at the door, just long enough to give me a long, hard look. Then he makes one of those little 'hnh' noises, and exits without another word. That feeling of disappointment remains.

I'm left sitting at that table, wondering where on earth all of this came from.

****

X X X

An hour after the unusual convention between Kai and Rei, Hiro Kinomiya found himself returning to the room that posed as his office, the room that lately, had felt like a prison. He supposed it was to do with the contract; the blissful end to a nightmarish job he oughtn't have taken in the first place.

Not that getting away was going to be terribly easy, of course. He'd done too well; the officials didn't want to let him go.

A damn shame, then, that he was leaving whether they wanted him to or not.

Shutting the door behind him the first thing the young adult did was loosen his tie, take off the suit jacket, and untuck his shirt. Tossing the jacket across an unfortunate pot-plant, Hiro looked down at his shoes. Deciding to keep them on - he had a meeting in an hour with Max and Kenny, anyway - he decided instead that a nap would be better.

Turning towards the lounge that lived along one wall of his office, the plan didn't go far. There was someone sitting there, in the way.

Hiro didn't even blink when he realised who it was.

"Kai?"

Rei, unusually, hadn't turned up to the Box at the ceremony - no-one had seen him at all. When added to the fact that Kai was sitting in front of him, it made a little more sense.

"Hello, Hiro," Kai's greeting sounded like more of a formality than anything else.

Hiro, still standing in the middle of his office, was watching him carefully. This was all very, very odd. "What brings you here?"

"Black Dranzer's being used." Clearly, Kai had decided to cut to the chase - Hiro barely registered what had been said.

__

-- Black Dranzer?

"But it's at Max's lab, I saw it yesterday -"

"It's a fake. Boris has the real one."

Hiro lapsed into anxious thoughts, considering the situation.

"… Boris?"

"One of his Bladers, actually." A Blader that Kai had found himself thinking over a great deal, someoneone that Rei refused to recognise.

A Blader that Kai was confident people would resent, even if they didn't know why.

He did - he knew, or at least, was sure his assumptions weren't wrong. The solution was one that fit perfectly, however unusual it was… the problem would be convincing others it was the answer.

"Which one?" Hiro winced inwardly when he asked this. Truth be told, he should have known already - he should have been keeping a closer eye on the Tournament.

"He's called Tai."

"And he's competing?"

"Right."

The two men lapsed into silence, with one considering the new information and the other waiting to see what the judgement would be.

Finally, Hiro sighed lightly and turned towards his desk.

"… What aren't you telling me?"

"What do you mean?" The defensive tone was one that came naturally.

Hiro was sorely tempted to take the bait, but he deferred and leant against the side of his oversized chair.

"Kai… you know something else about this, don't you?"

"Yeah. So?"

Sometimes, talking to Kai was like talking to a wall. Taking the hint that Kai wasn't keen on giving up what else he knew, Hiro sighed lightly.

"Alright, Kai. I'll keep an eye on him."

"Good. You need to."

Hiro hoped that Kai's instincts were right, with this one.

****

X X X

To be continued.


	4. Zero Four

****

Switchblade Beta: Zero-Four.

X X X

Two men had entered the office that afternoon; ordinary-looking save the professional clothes they wore.

They came with no appointment, but the simple statement that Hiro - not 'the Chairman' or 'Mr. Kinomiya', just 'Hiro' - was expecting them, aptly threw the secretary into a muddle. Hiro had expressly said that he didn't want to see anyone that afternoon, regardless of being on first-name basis with anyone.

These men easily slotted into that category, but no matter what she said, they refused to be dissuaded from getting into see her boss.

And that presented a new problem: she didn't know what to do about it.

It would be simple enough to let them through to see him… but nothing had been pre-arranged, that she knew of. Logically speaking, that meant it would put the Chairman in an awkward position. The knock-on effect from that would probably end with her being sent back to the Temp agency.

But then, what if they had arranged this? What if it was planned months ago and she was supposed to let them through without question?

Chewing on the end of her pen worriedly, the woman gestured to chairs that lined the wall opposite her desk. "Have a seat," she told them with her best 'everything is alright' smile. "I'll confirm with Mr. Kinomiya."

Obligingly, the two men - both wearing lab coats - took a seat.

She hid a grimace and reached for the P.A. "Sir, there are two men here who would like to see you."

****

X X X

In the office, neither occupant spared so much as a glance to the little speaker mounted on Hiro's desk.

"Sir?"

Hiro pursed his lips slightly, this time noticing the voice from his desk. "What?" he asked tone flat and unfriendly. Kai's statement that he 'needed' to do something had left the Chairman feeling threatened.

Kai, still seated on the couch, didn't bat an eyelid. He clearly had no intention of taking back any of what he'd said, no matter how Hiro took it. Emotions and truth had no business interfering with each other, so even if the elder Kinomiya chose to take emotions, Kai was sticking to his facts.

And the fact of the matter was that Tai and his dangerous Beyblade needed surveillance.

"There are two men here," the voice repeated, "who would like to see you."

Now Kai was frowning as well - he didn't know it, but his thoughts at that moment were the same as Hiro's: it figured that they would be interrupted in the middle of such an important discussion.

It crossed the Chairman's mind to tell his visitors to come back tomorrow, since he was far from done with Kai. Before he could tell the secretary that, though, the younger male was rolling to his feet.

"Kai -"

"We're done, here."

The blunt statement left Hiro with no choice in the matter. Before he could get another word out, Kai was already at the door.

****

X X X

The pen was now being tapped against the edge of the desk anxiously. It had been several minutes since the Chairman's last - only - response. She threw the two men an apologetic look, and then reached for the PA once more.

"… Sir?" she asked tentatively.

Still nothing.

One of the men made his move. He stood from his seat and slowly walked towards her desk, wearing a smile similar to her professionally apologetic one. First one elbow, then the other, came to rest on the raised ledge that separated her from clients; his chin rested atop steeped fingers. As he spoke, every word that came from the blonde was made of incredible patience.

"Look," he began with a glance to Hiro's door, "I'm sure he's expecting us, we do this every year…"

Before Max could finish, the door swung open - seemingly of its own accord.

All three adults straightened in either anticipation or surprise.

And all three adults became very confused when it wasn't Hiro who appeared there - it was Kai. He was older, leaner; wore no scarf and bore no face-paint, but he couldn't be mistaken.

Both Kenny and Max simultaneously lost their voices.

Even after the Russian had swept past them (without so much as a look of recognition), when Hiro had subsequently emerged from his office and ushered the pair in, they still couldn't speak.

The very idea that he'd had turned up in such an out-of-the-blue fashion was, admittedly, a very Kai thing to do… but it'd been years; years of no contact and no address and no news and no answers.

It was simply incomprehensible.

But from the way that Hiro had directed them to sitting across from him at the desk, without so much as a word of explanation as to what the great Hiwatari was doing in his office; the Chairman wasn't keen to discuss it. Instead, a long silence stretched between the two parties: Hiro, attempting to be as professional as ever, wanted his longtime friends to make the first move in the pending discussion.

Unfortunately, Max and Kenny were far too stunned to say anything.

Idly, Hiro remarked to himself how Kai had that effect on people.

In the end, it was the Chairman who broke the quiet: he'd grown just a little too tired of waiting for the situation to be understood. They were good friends, there was no denying that. But truth be told, Hiro wanted this to be over as swiftly as possible. That way, he could be alone to brood.

Kai had given him a lot to think about, perhaps without realising it.

"So," he said, sitting forward a little, "You've finished, Kenny?"

The question acted like an 'on' switch - the young man pulled his work from his pockets and prepared himself, whilst the Beyblade was passed to Max, who passed it to Hiro.

"I did as much as I could to fix that counter-balance issue we had at the last trial, which was the most important thing for your manoeuvring. Metal Driger should have an increased agility on rough terrain, so that'll come in handy when you get to the Exhibition Match…"

With his eyes glued to the notes in front of him, Kenny didn't notice that Hiro was no longer sitting at the desk. Instead, he was now pacing the length of the windows, Metal Driger being idly turned over in his hands. He was watching the horizon and not listening to a word that his friend was saying.

"… there's also a few last adjustments that are required, but in order to get the correct calculations, I need new performance data. In order to do that, we -" a slight nudge to the ribs had Kenny stopping mid-sentence. He threw a perplexed look to Max, who in turn, flicked his head at Hiro.

The man hadn't even noticed that his office was completely silent once more.

"Hiro?"

At the sound of his name, Hiro's attention returned to his guests; he turned away from the windows and set Metal Driger back down on the desk. Then, without one word of apology, he turned away and walked swiftly across the room.

When Hiro came to a stop, he stood a short distance from a glass-topped obelisk that all the former Bladebreakers were familiar with.

It was positioned to stand directly opposite the leather couch Kai had sat on earlier; tucked neatly between two pot-plants and clearly, the focus point of that wall.

The obelisk itself wasn't particularly important - it only served as a pillar. Amounting to a height of no more than a metre, it was the pyramid on top which suggested significance. Made of high-quality glass, it served as protection for the prize which lay inside - Dragoon's charred and melted, damaged remains.

Hiro had placed it there on the day that they buried his brother - the Bitbeast was still usable, for both battling and research.

But not one person had ever dared to make the suggestion. So Dragoon had lived here, under a Kinomiya's watchful eye.

Staring down at it, Hiro's frown grew deeper. If Kai was right about what was happening with that Blader, then he owed it to all the other competitors to do something about the situation. He could still remember how, eight years earlier, he watched Black Dranzer on a TV from halfway around the world. The power behind it had been beyond all comprehension… and it had barely been controlled; the Bladers who used it fast losing that slim grip they'd held.

He still remembered the feeling of being absolutely terrified of a Bitbeast.

So now he was faced with a question that he needed to answer as quickly as possible: could this Tai, who now served under Boris and Voltaire, actually handle the Phoenix?

Or, like others before him, would Black Dranzer simply take over?

He needed more information… he needed to confirm what Kai had said.

Hiro looked to the two men at his desk and said in a quiet voice, "I need to see Black Dranzer."

****

X X X

Black Dranzer did not get many visitors.

It lived in a room that reminded people of a scientific prison cell, where cement and iron was replaced with tiles and glass. Every inch of the room was monitored by cameras which were never turned off, whilst the security program - designed by Kenny, naturally - required an endless number of codes and sequences to disarm it.

Even then, they only had two minutes in the room before the alarms went off.

Yet despite all this, Kai had told him that it'd been stolen.

Hiro, watching the Bitbeast from the doorway - Kenny was still punching numbers into the keypad on his right - sighed slightly to himself. He had planned to get this meeting over, then go home and spend some time very much alone.

He hadn't planned on chasing down a crackpot theory, but here he was.

__

Thanks, Kai.

The seals on the door were unlocked - it hissed in the process, startling Hiro. Kenny didn't hide his grin, closing the keypad. He didn't need to signal that Hiro could go in - the man had already done so.

His shoes made an uncomfortably loud 'tap tap' noise on the tiles as he walked to the podium in the middle of the room. Black Dranzer lived in a fashion much like Dragoon did, ironically enough - kept safely at the top of an obelisk, this pyramid had a hole where the fourth panel was supposed to be.

Vaguely aware of Kenny hissing that he had a minute left, Hiro reached out for the Beyblade. His fingers curved around the black plastic and metal, palm over the Bitbeast in the middle.

Instantly, he knew Kai's words were the truth - this was not the real Phoenix at all.

****

X X X

Max was waiting in the lab when Kenny and Hiro returned. Seeing their pensive expressions, he nodded to himself. Instincts were always reliable - especially when they came from someone like their old team captain, who lived on them.

He stood from his computer chair, hands slipping into the pockets of his slacks. "Do we need Kai to double-check it?"

"No," Hiro replied definitively, "It's more important, now, to identify a timeline."

"Of what?" Kenny asked, trailing behind Hiro.

"Of when the Beyblade was stolen, of how it got back to Biovault."

Max frowned, head tilting slightly as he considered the statement. "How do we do that?"

"Well, we don't have security cameras for nothing," Hiro replied, tone dry as he set Black Dranzer down on the desk. Kenny hadn't wanted to bring the Blade out, but Hiro couldn't see the danger anymore: the Bitbeast wasn't real.

"You want to go through _five years_ of footage?"

"If we have to, yes."

Max shook his head lightly, picking up a pen and fiddling with it as he thought. "We don't need to go that far," he said, looking to the other two men.

Kenny had worked with the fellow scientist for much longer than Hiro had, so it came naturally that he caught onto Max's train of thought. "We go to the source…"

Hiro shook his head firmly. "No. Even if it was possible, I'm not getting you involved with Boris, or Voltaire. They can't know that we know."

"But we don't have to go to those two," Max told him with a grin, sitting back down in his chair. "They don't even have to know. The _source_, Hiro."

"We go to the blader?"

"Mister Tai himself," Kenny confirmed, looking to Max with a small grin.

The idea was a good one, even if Hiro didn't much like it. "How do you plan to accomplish that? They're not going to just let the kid wander around."

"I think…We can safely let Kai work that one out." Max sat back, looking at the two of them evenly as he made the suggestion.

Kenny nodded. "It's true that Kai knows them better than we ever will. He'll be the most beneficial in ascertaining the timeline we need."

Hiro let out a sigh, arms folding loosely as he gave in. "Alright… alright, I'll talk to Kai. I need the pair of you to start finding out whatever you can about Tai, alright?"

Both scientists nodded, accepting the order without a problem. It seemed that Kai's curiosity was a contagious thing - not only was Hiro steadily becoming involved in the happenings, but now two more of the former Bladebreakers had begun down that same path.

Thing was, none of them really seemed to notice.

****

X X X

The following morning finds me in the middle of an empty playground; coffee clutched in one hand, the pole of a swing set in the other. I'm putting more weight against that one pole than what I like, but after a sleepless night, my brain lacks the cognitive ability to hold me upright on my own.

I give myself until the world wakes up to pull back together. This is my third cup of coffee, and all I've done is walk five blocks and through a park - it's really quite pathetic, but with no-one around to impress, I really can't care.

It's too early for that, anyway.

The park is empty save for one or two couples out for morning exercise with their dogs, all of whom are happy enough with their lives to completely ignore me. I'm fine with that - I've been thinking all night without being able to achieve a resolution; the last thing I want is conversation about the weather.

In an optimistic flash of strength, I push off the pole and shuffle over to the swing, sinking into it with a soft sigh. Both legs stretch out, pleased to have weight taken off of them - I'd spent the night pacing my hotel room before walking here; they need a rest.

I take another sip of coffee and nearly choke when someone, quietly and curiously, calls my name.

"Rei?"

It's natural to look, to pivot on the swing so I can see over my shoulder.

There's no mistaking who it is, even from a distance - I'd know the two-toned hair _anywhere_. I find myself smiling.

This is the first time I've had the chance to get a really good look at him, so that's exactly what I do. It's hard to ignore how much taller he's grown, though he's still just as lean. The face-pain is gone, so is the scarf. It's only been a year or two since I last saw him, but the changes are amazing.

A really…good kind of amazing.

It comes to me that I'm staring, so I look down to the coffee before back up at him, trying to collect my scattered thoughts. "Kai," I manage, legs folding to let me swing closer to him. "You're out early."

"So are you." He watches me sway back and forth, wearing a curious little frown. "You look tired," the Russian says finally. A hand reaches out to catch the swing, bringing my idle rocking to an unexpected stop. I give him a confused look: was something wrong?

"Kai?"

He purses his lips, still frowning lightly. It looks like he's trying to make a decision, so I watch expectantly… watch the thoughts ticking over behind sharp eyes, the quirk at the corner of his mouth that only ever appears when he's looking at me.

I wonder what he's thinking.

Oh, I'm staring again. Back to the coffee.

"I talked to Hiro," he says at last, breaking several minutes of silence.

Admittedly, it's another minute before I realise what he's talking about. "Black Dranzer?"

Another minute ticks past.

"Yeah," he says finally. "He was as interested as you."

How Hiro took the news is, admittedly, probably not dissimilar from myself. It's a thought amusing enough to conjure a snicker, though if I'd been more alert it wouldn't have been half as funny.

I need to wake up, or I risk a loss of dignity in front of one person whose opinion really matters.

Maybe it's left over from training days, but I never want Kai to be disappointed in me - even if I disagree with him. He's not very tolerant, he's impatient, he's been gone for five years… but he's fair too; that's who Kai is and there's no changing it.

I never realised how rare it was until I found myself a very long way from him.

It's too early for these thoughts. With a shake of the head, I down the rest of my coffee in one smooth gulp, allowing the hot liquid to scald the back of my throat on its way down.

Kai's watching me with what I think might be bemusement. "How many hours of sleep did you get, Kon?"

I sigh, standing from the swing. "Not nearly enough," is my answer, as I start for the bin despite protests from my legs. "I'm going to get another," I tell my ex-teammate, lobbing it into the rubbish.

"Alright," he concedes, moving away from the swing.

That small action leaves me a little disappointed - part of me had hoped that he would stay until I came back, but… well, that's just not the way Kai is. So I lift a hand to wave, albeit awkwardly. "I'll catch you later, then."

He shakes his head, starts walking towards me. "I'm not leaving yet," he tells me firmly.

"Then where are you going?"

"With you." He says the answer so simply that I feel stupid for not realising it.

It's instinctive to protest the idea; I can feel the barrage of refusals begin to well up in my throat. I'm staring at him again; the words are threatening to spill out, even if I know he won't accept them.

He'll come anyway, that's Kai's way.

An unexpected clarity comes at this thought, and sucking in a breath, I change those refusals to acceptances. It's a waste of time to argue, I don't want to waste the energy.

So letting out a huff, I offer a smile. "Alright," I say, turning back the way of the coffee cart. "Let's go, then."

He falls into step beside me and it almost feels like we're real teenagers again; with nought but ourselves and each other to enjoy the serenity of early morning.

****

X X X

Kai felt confident in saying that he hadn't really expected the morning to turn out the way it did.

Instead of taking a morning jog and then a short practise session before breakfast, he waited patiently for Rei at a park's coffee cart. He stood a metre from his friend, arms crossed over his chest as was most comfortable. With little else to do, he watched the transaction; studied the way that this adult Rei offered a polite smile and answered questions from the vendor, but didn't venture into conversation of his own device.

It wasn't the Rei he used to know - the old one would have chattered freely, maybe asked about local Bladers.

Kai wasn't sure he liked it that much. The old Rei was more relaxed; more fun; more _alive_.

He frowned at the thought, shaking it away. There was nothing to be gained by speculation, not here - he didn't want to… what? To upset Rei? That was strange.

He'd never been concerned in the past about causing controversy, if it was deemed necessary for a greater good. And yet the memory of Rei's reaction to the video kept coming back to him; large amber eyes staring at him with a reproach he felt uncomfortable seeing, even in memory.

There was an inner sadness in them; the kind that could only come from losing a friend. They were eyes that refused to cry at a funeral, the eyes that stared at his friends falling apart and drift away from each other.

They were the eyes that had greeted him that morning he woke after the fire.

Eyes that meant their owner didn't smile from the heart anymore.

Kai knew that he would do anything to never see that look again.

Watching now, as Rei turned away from the cart and walk back towards him, Kai studied the flash of smile his companion was wearing. He could tell, now, that it wasn't a real smile - he should have noticed the first time.

With a nod in answer as Rei suggested taking a stroll, Kai wordlessly fell into place next to him once again. They walked in a comfortable silence; Rei absorbing the warmth of the coffee and Kai making a silent promise to himself.

First, he would bring Tyson home.

Then, Kai would fill the hole in Rei's heart. He'd get that smile back, no matter what.

****

X X X

To be continued.


	5. Zero Five

**Switchblade Beta: Zero-Five.**

****

**X X X**

The paint's old and flaking; the cold iron bites into his palms as he swings deftly from one bar to the next. It's a kid's playground and the ground is only a few centimetres from his feet, but Kai doesn't mind. He hasn't used monkey bars in years. He's caught a slight smile from Rei (it is, after all, a childish thing to be doing), but he chooses to ignore it.

"Will I see you in New York?"

It's a sudden question that makes him pause between bars; words thrust into the air like a cough in a theatre. It's blurted and a little lopsided - Kai's intuition tells him that halfway through the question, Rei's already begun to berate himself for saying it.

The old Rei didn't second-guess himself. He doesn't like it.

"Are you _going _to New York?" Kai asks, dropping from the bars. His feet hit the ground soundlessly, cushioned by the soft dirt. He dusts his hands off, then shoves them deep in his pockets. Winter is arriving early; the sun's rays haven't warmed him up yet.

Rei's sitting on the swing set not too far away, clinging to his polystyrene cup and the warmth that the coffee offers. Kai's noticed already that his jacket is too thin for this kind of weather, but refuses to act on it. It was Rei's decision to not wear something thicker, or a few more layers.

The Neko-jin swings back and forth idly in a steady rhythm, his feet dragging patterns. "I'm not sure yet," he replies. Those gold eyes slide in Kai's direction: Kai busies himself with watching a couple walk their dog because he doesn't want to meet the look. He realises vaguely that it's the same people as four days earlier, when he first encountered Rei here.

Since then, he's come to appreciate these early morning discussions. He's come to appreciate having Rei around and the routine it provides. In a way, he doesn't want the mornings to end.

"Then why ask?" Kai says, walking towards his friend.

He watches Rei look away, shrugging minutely. He frowns a little.

"Why ask?" This time, he puts more emphasis into the words: Kai wants an answer.

"I …" Rei's collecting his thoughts, giving off those slight fidgets that always seemed to come with a confession.

He waits.

"I do a lot of travelling, Kai. I've gone all over the world… and I'm tired of travelling alone."

He doesn't know how to answer that.

****

**X X X**

"So you haven't talked to Kai, yet?" Max leant forward, using his chopsticks to deftly swipe the last piece of okonomiyaki from a plate on the coffee table. He was seated on the plush carpet of the Chairman's office, shoes kicked off and legs splayed whilst the rest of his body leant against the leather sofa.

Hiro sat on the other side of the table in much the same fashion - though with his ankles crossed and without the back support. He scooped rice out of the plastic container in his hands and took a moment to eat it, all the while trying to think of the best way to phrase his answer. "No," he answered, "I haven't found a way to contact him."

The reply earned a blink from his companion - and a knowing sigh. "That's typical of Kai," Max agreed. "You really can't get hold of him?"

Hiro shook his head. "He's not listed staying in any hotel in the whole city. Dranzer hasn't turned up anywhere - not in practise gyms, not in parks, he's nowhere to be found. I don't know whether Kai's intentionally hiding or not, but he's damn good at it."

"Have you tried Rei? Maybe he knows."

"There's no guarantee that Rei is even around - he wasn't at the Ceremony."

"… Yeah. I really thought he'd be there, you know?" Max broke off the train of thought with a shake of his head. "Kai's around, but Rei isn't? It's weird."

Hiro's nod was one of agreement. "Even so, I bet we could contact Rei faster than we could Kai," he commented with a wan smile.

"Probably. Got a plan?"

"To get hold of Rei? Nah. I don't really want anyone more involved than what's necessary - if he finds out, it's gotta' be from Kai."

Both men lapsed into thought, here, with Hiro thinking over the situation (and mourning over the fact his 'graceful retirement' wasn't going the way it was supposed to); Max considering the odd paradox situation between Rei and Kai - maybe Rei _was _around, but just didn't want to see them? … Naw, that wasn't like his friend. They'd all changed over the years, but not _that_ much.

Hiro was struck with a sudden thought. "You know, I've seen Kai in the stands at a few of the tournament matches. The last one for the Japan leg is at noon. That Blader - Tai - he's competing; he might be there."

Max considered it, a slight tilt to his head. "… Otherwise, we're going to have to rely on him being in New York, hm?"

"Yeah."

"Sounds like a plan, to me."

"It's not much of a plan," the elder remarked sardonically.

"Better than nothing," Max quipped. He used his chopsticks then to point at an unopened container between them. "Should we save Kenny's? It _is_ getting cold."

Hiro considered the question, then shrugged. "If you eat it, then I was powerless to stop you," he told the scientist - who wasted no time in whipping it off the table and cracking the lid open. Watching, Hiro had to smile. Here they were, Chairman of the BBA and the BBA's Lead Researcher of the Asia District…sitting on the floor of an elite office … eating cheap takeaway for breakfast. There was something so remarkably unprofessional about it that the young adult had to snicker at the thought of what his Backers would say at the sight.

He preferred the risk of consequences over sitting in a restaurant, to say the least.

It didn't seem likely to be an issue, though - it was six in the morning, he and Max were finishing up an all-nighter. Kenny was due to join them soon, or else they would have packed up sooner.

"So what d'you plan to do?" Max asked, between his mouthfuls of steamed vegetables.

Hiro's answer was withheld by an odd sound - outside, someone was running down the hall. Just as he and Max both twisted to look at the door, the unlocked handle was tugged open by a hurried hand.

In a completely unceremonious fashion, Kenny tumbled into the room, armed with Dizzi and looking as dishevelled as his two former team mates. He had time to pull an indignant face at the sight of his 'breakfast' in Max's hands, but appeared to dismiss the thought quickly. He padded forward, the words tumbling from him at such a rate that Hiro found it difficult to get to his feet whilst still being able to understand what the scientist was saying.

"-- late but I was analysing the data from Black Dranzer in the lab and the levels it's exuding are absolutely phenomenal, it's far beyond the mean capacity for an ordinary Bitbeast - the fact that Tai has been able to control the Beyblade for this long is an incredible stroke of luck --"

It became apparent that Max was used to these 'hot streaks' that Kenny seemed to be barrelling down. He calmly swept the takeaway off of the table (Hiro was dismayed to see all that food go over his carpet), patting the cleared surface for Kenny to rest his laptop on. "Hang on a minute, chief. Get yourself settled and then you can show us what you've found."

Watching the two men assert themselves, Hiro was grateful to take a backseat for once. It wasn't often that he saw these two, nowadays - each of them was always so busy, so it came as a nice change to be around familiar faces… people who saw Hiro Kinomiya, not _The Chairman._

When he thought about it, it seemed ironic that an investigation like this would bring them back together. They'd never be the team they were; with Daichi a wreck and Tyson gone, with the rest of them pursuing adulthood, but… dredging up the past always seemed to knit little pieces back together. It was always here or there, so subtle in nature that it was never noticeable until it was gone again.

Maybe it wasn't such a bad way to kickstart his retirement after all.

"Okay, Kenny. What did you find?" Max asked patiently. Hiro forced himself to pay attention, adopting a spot behind the pair. He stayed on his feet, able to see the screen comfortably.

"Well, it's really remarkable. Hiro's assumption about what we _thought_ was Black Dranzer is correct. It has a dormant Bitbeast in it, an occurrence which is certainly not abnormal, but it's definitely not the Phoenix."

"So the real one -"

"That would be the logical thought, yes," Kenny nodded, tapping a few keys. "Black Dranzer is unmistakeably in their possession. This recording proves it."

Tai's latest match flicked onto the screen and into life, whilst an oscilloscope on the side of the screen measured the strength of Black Dranzer's movements. Watching, Hiro felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise - the results were a _long_ way out of the range of an ordinary Bitbeast. Kenny was right - it was pure luck that Tai had been able to control the Beast; even now he'd lasted much longer than Kai. How long before he couldn't go any further? He glanced across the room to Dragoon - he doubted that even _it_ could get that strong.

"If we compare that to an average Bitbeast…" the image of Tai re-sized to occupy a corner of Dizzi's screen. Hiro's grin was dry when Metal Driger appeared on the screen. As he expected, the ratings were, at best, a third of the earlier Blade. "It's completely out of league with anything else. Tai is winning this Tournament with one hand behind his back - which would appear to be what they are banking on."

"Isn't that against the rules somehow?" Max glanced upwards to Hiro. "They're using an illegal Beyblade!"

""There's no restrictions on how much power a Bitbeast has," the man replied slowly. "So on its own, Black Dranzer isn't against the rules. The BBA only took possession of Black Dranzer in order to prevent the use of it in Tournaments. We can't prove that they stole it; odds are high that they had it all along, that we only ever had a fake."

Max made an indignant noise - Hiro held up a hand.

"We still need to talk to Tai," he continued. "It might be possible to coerce him to surrender the Blade. We need to move quickly, too - there's a good chance that with the kind of power Black Dranzer has, Tai might reach a point where he won't be able to control it."

The blonde thought for a moment, then gathered his shoes and started slipping them on. "We can't afford that," Max said firmly, getting to his feet.

Hiro looked to him wearily, but with a small smile. _Forty-nine days to go._ "No, we can't," he agreed. "Kenny, Max, you should go home and get a bit of rest. When the two of you get back to the lab, see if you can dredge up some old footage of Kai's last battle with the Black Dranzer. We need to know how powerful it got before he couldn't hang on."

The youngest of the three nodded, closing Dizzi with a 'click'. "I'll get right on it."

"No, _rest_ first," Hiro insisted. "I'll organise for the two of you to fly to New York."

Despite the Chairman's casual tone, both Kenny and Max paused. Their response was simultaneous.

" -- America?"

'_Why there?'_ wasn't spoken, but it didn't need to be - Hiro had expected this kind of reaction. He planted both hands in his pockets, side-stepping the spilt breakfast to make his way across to Dragoon. Stopping in front of the Podium, he explained patiently, "It's the next leg of the Tournament. If we're going to keep tabs on the Blader, I need the two of you nearby."

"D'you need us to follow the whole thing?" Max asked, moving out of Kenny's way as the shorter man stood.

"We'll play it by ear," Hiro replied, turning to face them. "I know the two of you have work that needs to be done, but… I can't stand idle and let this danger continue in _my_ Association. I'm going to need your help, though."

Apparently satisfied with the answer, Max straightened his shirt and pulled on his suit jacket. He held the door open as Kenny scurried out ahead and let it swing shut behind as he caught up. Only when they were out of earshot did the American allow himself to smile privately. "About time he started to behave like the head honcho."

****

**X X X**

I never got a proper answer out of Kai about going to New York. In the end, I took the plunge and followed my instincts. I couldn't say if it was hope or curiosity that made the call… because either way, I want to know more about the Blader. I want to follow him, find out his secrets and what it is that has my old captain so fascinated. Maybe, if I do, I'll run into Kai again.

If that happens, then this time, I won't be a disappointment for…or _to_ him.

"It's worth a shot, right?" I asked myself in a mumble that's barely audible over the din of the people around me. I'm trying to elbow my backpack into an overhead compartment; grateful, not for the first time, that I travel lightly. With all the people coming in a steady stream down the aisle, it's always a scramble to get out of the way. The pressure never seems to alter, no matter how many plane flights I've been on or how good I've gotten at that awkward clambering to get in my window seat.

Sinking into it, I consciously make the effort to keep my head down: a flight like this is doubtlessly going to have plenty of Beyblade Fans on it, doing the pilgrimage from Japan to America the same as I am. Many of them, I've found, still regard the Blade Breakers as a semi-active team – I probably should think of it as flattering, but I have no interest in spending the next eight hours flying across the North Pacific accompanied by the awed stares of a hundred other people.

I find myself smiling slightly - it looks like a bit of Kai has rubbed off.

… Kai.

Sitting back in my seat, it's with a sigh that I close my eyes. I have no idea if I'm going to see him there - and I really hope that I do.

The noise of the people around me is one that prevents thoughts from becoming too sombre or deep. Luckily, I was able to be one of the first down the gangway, so I'm free to survey the passing figures on their way to their own seats.

It's a telltale flash of blue that catches my eye; sends my heart racing.

Tall, pale-skinned, lean, a stride that eats up the aisle and seems to clear a path around him, even when there's so many others all scrambling for their seats too. It can't be anyone but Kai.

There's a slide of those red eyes in my direction; I can't help but straighten eagerly. A greeting is on the tip of my tongue -- and then out of nowhere, a pillow and bag are dumped onto the previously empty seat next to me. Alarmed, I glance from the luggage to the offender: for a moment, the movement is so achingly familiar that I honestly expect it to be Tyson.

It's not him and my world crashes back to reality.

The newcomer is perfectly ordinary - brown hair, a cap (notoriously fashionable amongst midlevel Beybladers), jacket and jeans. It hits me that this person's going to be the one sitting next to me all the way to Las Angeles - maybe even New York - which means it won't be Kai. Anxiety gets the better of me; my glance up to the aisle says as much.

He's not looking in my direction anymore. He's waiting with limited patience as a mother stuffs her belongings into the overhead like I had - when the aisle's cleared he sweeps past and disappears down the back of the plane, out of sight. No greeting, not even a smile? I feel like wilting. Part of me is already critical about the fact I expected it in the first place - this is Kai. Our mornings in the park don't really mean anything - it was just the catching up of two old friends.

_But if that's the case,_ a corner of my mind whispers, _then don't friends say hello?_

Around me, the passengers have settled and the cabin doors are closed. The hostesses are beginning their safety talk - after a quick glance around to figure out where exactly my nearest exit is, I ignore the rest of the speech. All of a sudden, going to New York doesn't seem like it was such a grand idea after all.

****

**X X X**

Two hours later, it's through the little portal window that the sky is dark, and thousands of miles below us, the ocean is gleaming with a reflection of the stars. Inside, the cabin lights are dim and most people are settled down for sleep. Ever a follower of the pack, I'm one of them. I'm curled up against the window with my small pillow, taking solace in the fact that even though Kai didn't say hello, no-one else has yet clued in on the fact that there are two former Blade Breakers onboard.

Confident that I can get some shut-eye without being disturbed, it's easy enough to doze off.

Some time later - a little or a lot, I don't really know - I'm woken by the heave of my neighbour standing from his seat. From the angle I'm at, it's easy to peer through a loose fringe and watch him shuffle out into the aisle. After a swift stretch of the legs, he turns and disappears off down the aisle. It's rather baffling, but then, it's also none of my business, as a sleepy mind declares. Keen to get back to sleep, I have to wriggle around a little before curling up afresh. Tucked up as I am, it's only a few minutes later when my seat is jarred by the weight of my neighbour returning to his seat.

Craning my neck to give him a good glare, my heart leaps into my throat in the same instant: that's not my neighbour.

"-- Kai?"

… Damn bastard's done it to me again.

"Wake you up?" he asks, settling into the chair like he's been there the whole flight. I can't think of an answer to that - until it occurs to me that all of a sudden, I'm on borrowed time. When my actual neighbour comes back, Kai'll have to move. A sense of 'forbidden fruit' doesn't escape my notice.

"You can go back to sleep, if you like," he adds, after giving me a good, solid look.

It occurs to me that he's mistaken mild shock for sleepiness.

"I…" the offer sounds nice - I'm always sleepy on aeroplane flights. But how do I know that he'll be there when I wake up? How does _he_ know? A wary glance slides from a very smug Kai to the aisle, then back again.

That's when it clicks.

"--you swapped places," I accuse, sitting up a little.

Kai's smugness seems to grow with an airy shrug, as he tugs out a pair of earphones and slides them around his neck. "You should go back to sleep, Rei."

I'm not as tired as I was a few moments ago - which isn't greatly surprising, given that I'm now inclined to give Kai my best, _I Can't Believe That_ look. An hour ago I was worried that I wouldn't see my friend in New York at all - then all of a sudden, here he was, sitting right next to me. Instead, I smile more genuinely than I have in a long time, and curl up in my seat again. "Thanks, Kai."

"Don't mention it," he replies, without looking at me. Through sleepy eyes I watch him pull the earphones up.

It's just like the Kai I've always known: he's the only person I've ever met who has had such a remarkable ability to show up out of nowhere, then completely destroy any expectations placed on him… only to act like it was nothing on his part.

I fell asleep dreaming of Russia, oceans, and warm kisses.

****

X X X

To be continued.


	6. Zero Six

**IMPORTANT AUTHOR STUFF:**

**As of 14.Sept.07, this chapter is NEW. It is the equivalent of "Zero-Seven" prior to my reshuffling of all BETA chapters. **

**But unless you've just been redirected here from the previous chapter, don't worry. : If you're reading from the start of the story, then disregard this. 3.**

X X X

Switchblade BETA: Zero-Six

X X X

Idle fingers picked loosely at a stray thread, pulling it free from the end of his BioVolt jacket. Coffee-brown eyes examined the thread closely, before releasing the thread and allowing it to drift downwards. He watched it with a boredom caused by having nothing better to do, until it landed on the sofa and became camouflaged against the other fibres.

It had to be said that there were a lot of benefits to be taken advantage of; when one was a Blader in the BBA's Quarter Finals. There was a private room with its own furniture, a live feed of the stadium, even a warm-up Beydish. You were guaranteed complete privacy and seclusion from fans, as well as almost any nameable service.

But all the perks in the world couldn't resolve the boredom Tai felt in waiting for a match. He was one of Biovolt's elite (if the dark grey of the uniform didn't give that away), trained to be constantly busy, to think of nothing else _but_ the fight ahead. If he was at home in Russia, he trained. If he was on the move, travelling took up too much time and energy for thought to be spared. If he was doing neither of those, then he was at a Tournament - which was where the boredom started.

Tai _hated _waiting for a match to start.

Being in the Singles division meant that he had this room to himself. Warm-up was never an option - Black Dranzer was kept closely guarded by both Boris and Voltaire, which meant he was never 'alone' with the Bitbeast, even in the lead up to a match.

It was a nuisance, nor did he know _why_, but it was not his position to argue.

Lean body stretched out supine on the lounge, Tai considered taking a nap. It always took a while to recuperate from utilising Black Dranzer and he was still feeling the effects from the Japan Leg. Boris said it wasn't worth worrying about; though Tai had his doubts, he didn't find it worth the time it took to argue. The best he'd get would be a swift check over at the nearest Infirmary, before being told to 'go home and rest.'

He'd tried it before.

With a shift of weight and a fair dose of wriggling to get comfortable, Tai did his best to make good on a nap. These couches had a reputation for being rock hard and, --

--the door.

The moment he heard the squeak of the handle being turned, the youth bolted upright, all eyes and ears. It had been made clear earlier that the only person who was going to come through that door would be Boris - but it couldn't possibly be time for his match _already_.

When he didn't hear the 'click' of his trainer's cane, Tai knew that it wasn't Boris. There was, however, something alarmingly familiar in the young male who stood across from him.

The calculating stare was just like Voltaire's, that he realised almost immediately. But it was the way he _stood there_, arms folded and weight to one side, challenging and threatening and _strong_. Deep red eyes were offset by the two-toned hair, whilst the sleeveless shirt showed off well muscled arms. Put together, it became an echo of the predatory nature which seemed to suddenly choke the air between them. Tai was willing to bet that this was one hell of a Beyblader.

But … why was he here?

Tai stood from the sofa in one motion, never taking his eyes off of the intruder. His blood was already singing - he wanted to fight this male, here, now, before the opportunity was gone. With a forced calm, he said, "You're not allowed in here."

It was a standard rule that applied to all Beyblade stadiums: VIP areas were for VIP-only and all of them wore bright red badges to show it. That was the first thing he'd noticed about the stranger: he wasn't wearing one.

Kai didn't skip a beat, wordlessly lifting the bright red pass he held loosely in his hand.

The Blader narrowed his eyes. That changed things, but not by much. Boris had already given him a rundown of who was going to visit him - it had amounted to no-one except himself or Voltaire. VIP pass or not, by his trainer's rules, this guy wasn't allowed here. He knew that BioVault was in a strong position within the BBA: no-one would willingly question why he, Tai, was left in complete isolation.

So to be disturbed like this… it must have been prearranged, and the situation simply not communicated to him. Unusual, for BioVolt's standards, but entirely possible.

"Who sent you?" he asked, tone more curt than usual.

"No-one. I came on my own," he was told.

Tai frowned deeply. "Is that right." Odd - fans didn't usually get this far in. They were almost always stopped by security. The Beyblader shook the thought off quickly - the theory didn't fit; it wasn't the right answer.

Besides, there was something inherently proud about the bluenette across from him. 'Fandom' didn't cut it, VIP or not.

"I need to know something," the stranger said, every word as sharp as his appearance.

Regardless of being a statement, Tai had the feeling that there was a question straight after it. He made an effort to cut across the other's words. "Look, if you're after Boris -"

His efforts were steamrolled not a moment later. "How many years have you been a member of BioVolt for?"

Now that was an odd question - Tai didn't hesitate to answer. "All my life, since I was a kid - since before I can remember."

Here, there was a pause in this makeshift interrogation as the answer was received.

Tai watched his opponent carefully. He could see that the wheels were turning in the other's mind, and waited for the next demand. Ordinarily, Tai would have put his foot down by now and stopped this strange conversation - but something about Kai made the questions impossible to not answer… and it had nothing to do with the way they were _asked_.

It had everything to do with _who _was asking them. He hadn't met this guy before, but somehow… there was something that he recognised. Something painfully familiar but _just_ out of memory's reach.

"That's not possible," the other murmured. It was spoken so quietly that Tai almost didn't believe his ears that he heard it.

That was when the door was pushed open a second time. Both young men jumped at the sound of the lock and the hinges, the strained atmosphere sliced clean in half as a cold, _tap---tap---tap_, filled the room.

"Hello, Kai."

Tai watched his mentor and the stranger, as the former smirked and the latter - _Kai_? - bristled, spitting out a greeting of his own. "_Boris_."

The old man hooked his cane over one arm, an outstretched hand beckoning for Tai to come close. Begrudgingly he complied, paying rapt attention to the conversation. To Kai, Boris said smugly, "This is a restricted area. You should leave."

"I'm on the VIP list."

To leave was no less than a command - and Kai's response became the first time that Tai had ever seen someone disobey someone in such a powerful position. It was a concept that almost - _almost_ - frightened him. Who was this, to write off Boris' commands so easily? How did this Kai _do_ it?

Privately, he made a mental note - Kai had his curiosity now. Stopping next to Boris, he matched the defiant red eyes with a firm, brown, stare; a well-trained mind taking in every detail that he could as he said to his mentor quietly, "We were finished, sir."

Kai snarled something softly to himself, then in the same gracefully resilient manner, stalked past the pair towards the door. "I'm going."

-- what was that look on the other's face? Tai found himself wishing they'd had just a few more minutes, for questions and answers that he knew he'd never hear now.

The moment that the door closed in Kai's wake, Tai found himself roughly pushed away from his mentor. The whistling sound of the cane whipping through air was his only warning to dodge; he did so valiantly.

"What the hell was that?!" Boris demanded, his temper flaring up now that the enemy was removed.

"Sir -" Tai dodged again, but wasn't fast enough the third time - it cracked square across the back of his shoulders. He dropped to his knees and bit back a yell: the first rule of BioVolt was to never complain. That only ever made it worse.

Taking several deep breaths, Tai waited a moment then clambered back to his feet. "You were told what the conditions were of being left alone," Boris said coldly, cane held rigidly in his hand, in case the answer wasn't right.

Tai felt the same thrill of shame that always happened in these situations; he looked off to the left. "Yes, sir. I was."

"I want to know what on earth possessed you to talk to Kai when you _know_ the rules," Boris continued. He seemed to have recollected himself by this point, adjusting his tie and smoothing back stray hairs. "But that will have to wait. It's time for your match."

Tai's attention snapped back to Boris, who had already turned and was walking to leave the room. He shifted immediately to follow, as they left the small preparation room and turned into the hall.

They walked in a cold silence down the hall, Boris with his three-step rhythm and with Tai locked in pre-battle thoughts. He was still distracted by the appearance of this mysterious Kai; he knew it would keep him awake for nights to come.

After playing escort, Boris disappeared to the VIP Box, as he did for every match. This left Tai to walk down the promenade that lead to the stadium floor alone, clinging to a calmness that had to be learnt. He pushed Kai to the back of his mind, choosing instead to focus on the Beydish.

At the end of the walkway was one of Biovolt's lackeys, standing to attention with a case propped open in his hands. Tai stepped up to the much younger male and reached out, easing Black Dranzer from the velvet it rested against and gathering it in his hand. There was a scorching heat that came from the contact; a warning that this Bitbeast didn't want to be used.

Tai had been taught to ignore it; Black Dranzer never changed. He stepped away and out onto the stadium floor, fixing the Beyblade to his launcher as he went.

The first time he saw Black Dranzer, it had entered his mind that this was _wrong_. Everything was _wrong _- he wasn't supposed to be in the Abbey; he wasn't supposed to be recuperating from a car accident; wasn't supposed to _touch _the powerful Beyblade.

But he hadn't the choice - Black Dranzer was forced into his hands and that was when Tai knew that in this strange world, Beyblading was _right_.

**X X X**

It's always felt a little unnatural to walk down these long stadium hallways on his own, but Kai isn't thinking about that.

He's met with Tai and there's a lot to consider: old concerns have lit back up and there's brand-new ones to deal with too. There's too many solutions and they all stare him in the face, but Kai wants to think this over. He can't do this rashly, not when the impulse could kill everything. It's just like battling with Black Dranzer - adaptation has become critical.

Kai knows he needs to think; alone, privately, away from people.

But it's on the way out of the stadium that he sees Rei coming in - the greeting's out into the winter air before he has the chance to stop it.

"Yo, Rei."

He watches as Rei looks up from the VIP sign-in table, away from the slightly intimidated officials and across the hall. "Hey, Kai." It's here that Kai lifts a hand in greeting, trying to trigger a smile from the Chinese youth.

It sort of works and it sort of doesn't. There's a smile, but it's not directed at him, and it's not quite genuine.

Rei fastens his badge to his white shirt before turning towards him. Kai waits, patiently, for the other to be close enough before he turns to go back into the stadium. He still needs to think, but… maybe it doesn't have to be alone.

There is, after all, a small comfort in the fact that even after splitting ways at the Airport, they're in the same city.

"So, how are you?" it's a surprisingly confident question from Rei; he can't help looking sideways to make sure that it was in fact asked.

Kai knows he's not good with this idle chatter - it wasn't something considered worthwhile in Biovault. Instead, he decides to cut straight to the chase, answering Rei with a slightly unorthodox response. "I found out something interesting about Tai."

He doesn't need to look to know that Rei is now studying him with those bright eyes of his. Kai says nothing else and continues to walk, heading automatically for the stands within the stadium. He's never set foot in the VIP Box and never intends to. Kai intends to keep walking until he gets a protest, but so far, Rei hasn't noticed where they're going.

Or maybe, Rei's decided to come along anyway.

**X X X**

"-- the competitors this morning are going to be an eyeful, aren't they?"

"That's right, Marley. Both of them are first-timers to the World Championships, but there's been a lot of upsets along the way. I can't count on two hands how many experienced fighters both of these two have defeated."

"Whoever wins today there's bound to be plenty more of it, whether it's from Abigail's swift attacks, or Tai's furious Dranzer."

"Taking sides, Stretch?"

"Not this one! Tai's last match seemed to hold quite a few control issues for the young man, so if he hasn't righted himself it could be the end for him and this tournament."

"And at the same time, the terrain for today's stadium is not going to lend itself favourably to the ice-based Furlimoth."

"We'll just have to see what happens, right Marley?"

"That's right Stretch. We're five minutes away from the start of what's going to be a very exciting match, so don't go away!"

"You're listening to BBA Live, the only station with live coverage of the World Championships. We'll be back after the break."

As the voices of the two radio commentators was replaced with the first chords of that week's number one song, Max sat up in his chair groggily, tired eyes blinking until he could keep them open. With a quiet groan, the young man performed a back-cracking stretch.

He must have fallen asleep there the previous night, from poring over Biovolt's records. Hiro had requested that they dig up everything they could that might present a cause as to _how '_the enemy' had gotten hold of Black Dranzer. As a result, he and Kenny were pulling overtime, though the smaller man had a better knack for staying awake overnight.

Sliding his chair out from the desk, Max stood on stiff legs with a wince. He hobbled the first few steps, forcing the cramped muscles to hold his weight. After a bit he could limp, and by the time he made it down to his comrade, he could walk almost normally. "How long was I out?" he asked, stifling a yawn.

"Most of the night," Kenny replied distractedly, his nose millimetres away from the wires he was carefully tweaking, various pieces of a TV remote scattered across the worktop. "I was about to wake you up, anyway. The match starts in a few minutes."

"Oh." Max glanced around the room sheepishly, looking for the little portable radio they kept for occasions like this one. It was sitting on a shelf that Kenny had deemed to be 'out of the way', next to the TV they'd been reviewing Tai's data on. The TV screen was off but the radio on, with the antennae sticking out and the lights all on. He realised, belatedly, that it must have been that way for a while.

Turning away from Kenny's workstation, the blonde made for the coffee machine. Hitting a button and waiting for his cup to fill, he listened as the song began to die off. A few seconds later, the voices started again.

"Hey Stretch, have you seen who's all the way down there in the stands?"

"Thousands and thousands of people? I'd heard there was a full house for today's match. This Tai's a real ticket-seller!"

"He sure is, but take a good long look. There's a couple of faces that haven't been seen around the Beyblade Circuit for quite some time, and they're sitting down in that stadium."

"Is that - wow! It's not just Rei Kon down there, it's Kai Hiwatari, too!"

"That's right! Both of them have disappeared from the public eye over the years since the Blade Breakers disbanded, so for both of them to be here today…"

Max sent a bemused glance to his friend, and took a sip of instant coffee. "Imagine if it was all of us," he said dryly. He'd had it on the tip of his tongue to say 'the whole team', but bitten it back through years of hard practise. There _was_ no whole team, just the damaged leftovers.

Unaware of his friend's thoughts, Kenny wore a grin as he looked up from his work. "I don't think Kai would appreciate the company. It's good to know that Rei's around, but," he continued, swapping screwdrivers. "He's not going to be happy about the attention."

"Neither of them will be, I don't think."

"Probably not."

The two of them lapsed into a companion's silence, each mind raking over the memories of a time when there really would have been four of them in the stadium seats at once, each anticipating the coming battle in a different way.

The temporary silence between the two men allowed for the radio to seem amplified, the host voices chattering excitedly about what it meant to have two fighters such as Rei and Kai in their midst. Had they chosen to stick to the VIP Box, the attention may not have been so severe, but both Kenny and Max knew that it was not Kai' s way to put on airs. He would be VIP when it suited him but not otherwise, even if it cost his privacy dearly.

The voices on the radio had risen to an excited crescendo; it took Max a moment to realise that the match was about to start. Without entirely realising it he moved closer to the radio, all ears for the reports of the battle about to start. Now knowing that the Black Dranzer out there was the _real_ one, Max had every confidence that the Bitbeast would defeat the opposing Blader.

The question was whether or not Tai would win against Black Dranzer.

**X X X**

I've always been aware of Kai's dislike of the media, and their knack for creating a hype where there really shouldn't be one. It's only this afternoon, though, that I've come to empathise with him. The two of us settled a half-hour ago, here amongst tens of thousands of Beyblade fans. For twenty of those thirty minutes, the media's known we're here. I've watched Kai become more and more agitated with each passing sweep of a camera. I can imagine what the commentators are saying; things like how it's odd to see one Blade Breaker, let alone two. It would be followed by a brief history of Tyson's team, of the events that lead to the disbanding. That's the sort of stuff that would tie in neatly with what they were supposed to be talking about: the Tournament. Around the country - and the world - thousands of fans would know that two members of an era already gone were out and about.

I figured that it wouldn't be long before the rumour mill started, questioning just what it meant. Did it mean the Blade Breakers were going to make a come back? Were we secretly watching up-and-coming Bladers, as part of a mysterious BBA-funded project? Was it some kind of strange _date_?

At the last thought, a snicker escapes me before I can stop it. Kai's attention snaps around, and I see the change in him that I'm becoming quite accustomed to. Everything is immediately treated as a threat, until he has the opportunity to examine it and re-evaluate how dangerous it is.

It's my turn to react and I mumble a sheepish, "Sorry," for Kai's benefit. His look softens at the edges as he realises that there's no qualm, and he's back to watching the empty stadium floor in silence.

Unsurprisingly, I find myself wondering what he's thinking.

There's no time to ask, though, as a current of excitement flashes through the crowd. There's movement way down below, the two Bladers appearing at the ends of their walkways. I can feel Kai next to me as he leans forward with renewed interest. Despite myself, I sigh just a little. If, in some strange alternate universe where the sky was green, Kai and I were on a date… we certainly wouldn't be going to a Beyblade Match.

Not that it'd ever happen, anyway.

In the time that I've been distracted by these thoughts, the two competitors are lining up on opposing edges of the Beydish, a little tropical island with a miniature volcano in the centre. Tai and Abigail are easy to tell apart and like Kai, now I'm studying him carefully too.

It's his uniform that bothers me first - it looks unnatural on him, as though the dark grey is forcing Tai to fit BioVolt, even if he wasn't meant to. I find myself wishing that I knew more about this Blader, more of where he came from and why he's competing. Is it just because Boris wants him to?

Without really thinking about it, I glance sideways to Kai. He catches the motion and looks back at me. "What is it?"

"I…" it takes a bit too long to gather my thoughts, but eventually I manage a question. "D'you think he'll win?"

"Definitely." The answer's so immediate that I know Kai is confident in the results of the match. "_If_," he adds, "Black Dranzer doesn't go beserk."

"It did that to you, didn't it," I look down to the dish, unsure of why I'm carrying the conversation. I don't expect Kai to answer that: it's something all of us were there for.

"Black Dranzer is too powerful to be used by one person," Kai answers, to my amazement, "No matter how strong that person believes they are. I made that mistake, now Tai is making it too."

"Or maybe," I throw in, "Boris didn't learn from Black Dranzer the first time."

X X X

To be continued.


	7. Zero Seven

**STOP.**

**IMPORTANT AUTHOR STUFF ALERT.**

**As of 14.Sept.07, there has been a MAJOR reshuffling of the earlier chapters. Chapters "Zero-One" and "Zero-Two" have been merged, which means that every chapter prior to this update has been moved forwards by one chapter. Ch.3 is now 2, 5 is now 4, and so on.  
**

**If you are accessing this chapter via an AUTHOR ALERT or STORY ALERT, it is EXTREMELY IMPORTANT that you go back one chapter. Why? Because there's two new chapters at once, this one and "Zero-Six"! "Zero-Seven"won't make sense unless you do!**

**So don't say I didn't warn you, okay? ;  
**

****

X X X

**Did you read the author's note? ): I hope you did.**

****

X X X

**Switchblade Beta: Zero-Seven.**

****

**X X X**

It's on one of the screens overhead that a countdown has begun. Both competitors have their launchers at the ready so that when the Referee finally blows his whistle, the Beyblades fly through the air like twins, landing safely in the dish. The cheers rise to a deafening roar, but Kai's not joining in. They could be rioting for all he cares, because for the next few minutes, Kai's world has shrunk down to what lies in the centre of the stadium floor: a Beydish, two fighters, and their Bitbeasts.

He's always been attuned to Black Dranzer in a way that he doesn't really understand, but doesn't care to question. Kai has simply figured that because of his own Dranzer, he's more aware of the powers that other Dranzers have; the same way that Rei's more attentive to Hiro's Metal Driger than anyone else's. Other than his own Bitbeast, of course.

So in the instant that the referee's whistle blows and Black Dranzer skids across the ground, chill spreads though his whole body. Kai can _feel_ it - Black Dranzer is furious and fighting the hand that commands it. Rei's soft hiss is enough to tell Kai that he can tell, too. It's good, and it's bad, because it means that Rei hasn't lost his touch.

It also means that Black Dranzer's on the brink of being out of control.

The dark Beyblade - even more distinct against its white opponent - skids up the side of the miniature volcano fast enough to cut a deep trench in its wake. Furlimoth can't keep up, and takes refuge at the top of a small palm tree. For Black Dranzer, it's an easy target, flinging off the side of the volcano to strike it into the sand of the fake beach. It's a cruel strike and Furlimoth recovers badly.

Kai grits his teeth, watching for Tai's next move. There's an arm gesture that he knows is familiar: the BioVolt's silent signal for 'kill'.

As though pre-empting the command, Black Dranzer has already begun to move by skirting around the little island, picking up speed on the edge of the Beydish. An unnatural wind's picked up in the stadium, tearing at everyone's hair and clothes as though trying to pull it all into the Beydish. It only drives the audience wilder, amazed at the power they're seeing, but not realising that it's created by _one _Beyblade, not two.

Kai's still studying the fight intently, arms folded but sitting forward where he's afforded a clear view. Though much of the watching world would never be able to tell the difference, it's clear to him that Black Dranzer is fighting this battle for itself.

Then he sees Tai, and forgets completely about the part where this is a tournament.

Tai, the BioVolt minion, looks nothing like the proud, almost arrogant teen he encountered less than a half hour ago. He's leaning heavily to one side as though it takes all the strength in the world to stay on his feet. He's watching his own Beyblade with a deep scowl; Kai remembers the feeling vividly. It's as though every beat of your own heart is put into trying to get the black Beyblade to do as commanded, but every passing second makes it more difficult to persevere. It takes a frightening amount of strength and as Tai's face turns paler and paler, Kai finds himself hoping this battle will end swiftly.

The Beyblading world doesn't need to lose another good fighter, questionable Bitbeast or otherwise.

Furlimoth is still floundering in the sand, and never stands a chance when Black Dranzer comes in for the kill shot. The Phoenix is in the air and then it's hitting the less powerful Bitbeast in a dead bullseye.

Abigail's Beyblade shatters on impact and her defeated cry rings around the Stadium. There's a stunned silence then the stadium erupts. Whistles, claps, jeers and cheers: the crowd has split in two, but Kai is ignoring that.

Black Dranzer hasn't returned to Tai yet, even though doing so is a traditional exit for the victor. Instead, it's begun to zigzag madly back and forth across the dish, looping around the volcano and the beach in sporadic loops. It is gravitating closer to Tai, like a true beast challenging the enemy with intimidation.

Kai notes with interest that Tai's straightened, drawing himself up in readiness to meet the attack. The rest of the crowd has gone quiet again too, entranced by this Bitbeast acting like it's after another fight - with a _human_.

He's not sure if Rei's still watching. It can't be afforded, but Kai wants to spare a glance in his direction. He settles for a gentle elbow nudge.

"I know," his friend murmurs in answer.

Black Dranzer circles around the side of the Beydish one more time, then slings out and towards Tai, rocketing through the air like a bullet and carrying the same intent: to harm. Kai can feel Rei flinch next to him.

Tai catches Black Dranzer one-handed, like it's what he meant to do all along.

For a long time there isn't a sound in the stadium. There are no cheers, or whistles. There's no foghorns or catcalls. The entire audience is silent, not daring to so much as clap. It's as though they are waiting for the next part of the performance: for Tai to speak, for Dranzer to react… _anything_. Kai can feel the tension in his friend and wonders if he's caught up in it too.

Whilst thousands of people wait, Kai is watching the young man from a different angle. He knows from experience just how sharp Black Dranzer's attack ring is, with the scars on his hands to prove it. His fingers flex with the memory, gripping Dranzer tightly. Somehow the Beyblade has made it into his hands, even though he doesn't remember pulling it out of his pocket in the first place.

The crowd cannot hold its breath any longer and bursts into a furore of noise. Every sound that was absent a moment ago is brought to life tenfold. The noise is deafening, but Tai doesn't respond. Whilst thousands of people are on their feet all around him, Kai is still studying the Blader. As he steps down from the Beydish and turns to make his exit, the world's second-best-Blader finally sees the evidence that Tai is human.

The fingers gripping Black Dranzer are slick and gleaming with moisture under the stadium lights. As he walks back the way he came, tiny red droplets of blood hit the ground in his wake.

Kai wonders if he's the only one who can see what the catch has cost him.

****

**X X X**

After the heat of the stadium floor, it was a relief to step into the quieter, darker atmosphere of the walkway. The Blader known as Tai waited until he was safely out of sight from the fans, before sagging against the wall. Slowly, he slid down to the ground, back leaning gratefully against the cool cement wall. Tipping his head back to rest it, Tai vowed to stay there until his heart stopped racing and he had the strength to stand again.

That was, until a quiet 'ahem' reached him. His eyes snapped open and although he didn't straighten, every muscle in Tai's body was immediately on the alert. Looking deeper into the hall, he saw the source immediately - _Boris._

Closing his eyes again, Tai asked slowly, "What is it?" Every word took effort to speak properly and not simply let the sounds slur together.

"Where is Black Dranzer?" Boris asked, hooking his cane over one arm. For the first time, Tai realised that the lackey - the one with the case - stood beside the older man. He doubted that Boris had been tipped off - he'd come down for another reason, but Black Dranzer was obviously a higher priority than that.

He looked down to his hands, at the dark Beyblade that was slick around the edges with blood. "It's right here," Tai answered dully. He made to get up, but by the time he'd gotten his feet under him the lackey stood in the way, holding out the case. Obligingly, he put reached up and put the Beyblade on the velvet.

As the boy retreated - to go put it away, he supposed - Boris moved forward to take his place.

Doing his best to ignore a certain sense of doom, Tai examined the cuts on his hand before looking up to his mentor. "Black Dranzer's getting worse," he said flatly.

"The word is _stronger_. All it means is that you're getting _weaker_."

Tai couldn't help the irritated look. "It's my fault the thing nearly tried to kill me?"

"We did not have this problem at the start of the program. If it no longer views you as master - "

"It has _never_ acted like I am the master," he snapped out, interrupting the growing speech.

No sooner had the words left his mouth than the cane whipped through the air. Tai barely got out of the way in time, the end of it thudding against the wall where his head had been less than a second earlier.

"You forget your place, _boy_," Boris hissed. "So I will remind you of it. We leave for Russia tomorrow, and when we return to the Abbey, you will double your training." He stepped back and turned to walk away. "We'll see if you remember to hold your tongue when you're too tired to think, hm?"

As the 'click---click' rhythm faded down the hall, Tai released the breath he'd been holding and slumped back against the wall. He had no wish to continue the Tournament, much less compete in the Russia-hosted finals. Black Dranzer was almost beyond his control… something that extra training sessions would not help.

If only he had the will to defy.

****

**X X X**

In the space of thirty seconds, I've gone rip-roaring deaf, I'm certain of it. From all sides the crowd is caught in absolute euphoria; the noise that they are generating is like nothing I've heard in years. There was a time when I would have been one of them, no question: back when the BladeBreakers dominated the Beyblade world and every match ended this way.

Then again, I've been out of the loop for a long time. Maybe this is still the norm.

I've been watching Kai from the corner of my eye throughout the match, and it's obvious he's deaf to the world around him. I can't help the resigned sigh: it's so typical of him.

The board overhead is displaying the victor - Tai - in an obnoxious show of lights and flashing words, whilst a red "X" stamps itself over Abigail's picture. The poor girl is still sitting on the edge of the Beydish, broken pieces of her Beyblade cupped in her hands. The coach and an official are approaching from the side, ready to coax her out of the stadium.

It's a situation I would have liked to follow with no small amount of interest, but Kai's suddenly on his feet. I follow without even thinking about it. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he answers distractedly. I'm not sure if it's because he's lying, or if he's still thinking about the fight we just witnessed - and Black Dranzer's attack on its owner. I'm not fooled; Tai was lucky to catch it.

"You're lying," I tell him firmly.

Kai glances to me as though he's only just realised I'm there. The look of surprise is unsual for someone who's normally so contained. I grin, enjoying the moment. "What's wrong?" I repeat.

He stares for a little longer, but something's different about the way he's looking at me. Finally, he looks out across the crowd before answering, "We should go before the crowd quietens."

My frown's immediate. "But -"

"Do you really want to be set on by all these people?" he asks, cutting me off with a gesture to the crowd around us - the crowd who is still on its feet, going mad.

My shoulders slump in defeat. Kai has a point, there. The media will know we're here, and they'll be waiting for us… if we aren't, as Kai put it, 'set on' by fans first. We managed to get through the plane flight without too much hassle; I'm not looking to break the track record. "Alright," I concede at last.

"Then let's go." Kai brushes past me, faultlessly navigating his way past the people who are all but jumping on their seats. I'm not nearly so graceful in following, but that's exactly why I stay a few steps behind - so he doesn't see.

We jog up the stairs to the top of the stands, and slip out the big, double doors. From there it's smooth sailing: with all modern Beyblade Stadiums having a largely uniform design, it's easy to find the fastest path to the exit. Even away from the central arena, the noise caused by the crowd is phenomenal, and it echoes dimly through the halls that we're tracing our way through. It's growing fainter and then from somewhere overhead there's a series of clicking noises as the doors are opened to let them all out of the stadium. A lot like water breaking a dam, the sound of an excited crowd reaches us all over again. I glance to Kai, but he's not concerned.

I take that to mean he's confident we won't be caught up to by them, but I can't relax. Maybe it's because of the hyper-awareness that comes with tension, or perhaps it's because my hearing is naturally good. Whatever the reason, we haven't gone much further before I hear the sound of people approaching. It isn't until I hear the whirr-click of a camera that my feet stop.

Kai comes to a halt only a step after me, turning with a frown. "Kon?"

Listening for confirmation, the jingle of bag straps tells me that we're about to have an unwanted kind of company. "They must have realised we left early," I mutter to my friend.

It only takes Kai a moment to realise what I'm talking about and then he's turned around, walking firmly the other way. I follow immediately, glancing over my shoulder at the approaching noise.

"We need to hide," he mutters, turning up the very same stairwell we've just come down from.

"- Kai! We can't go _that_ way!" Patrons would be coming this way any minute, and against sports paparazzi they weren't what I would consider the lesser of two evils.

"It'll be alright," he answers confidently. Reaching the top, he takes two strides towards the wall - towards a door I never realised was there. He doesn't wait for me to catch up, pulling it open and slipping inside. Without a thought, I follow.

And find myself in a very small, very dark space… one that's much to small for two people.

"Where the hell are we?" I ask, turning in a circle. I can't see a thing and have no idea which side Kai is on.

"Broom cupboard." It's a disembodied voice that answers, so close to my ear that I jump. Whirling around in that direction, my arm hits him - I try taking a step back and instead almost trip over a mop-and-bucket combo.

Kai catches my arm before I can fall over, pulling me back up with enough strength to tug me right up against him. For the briefest of moments, I'm ensconced by the warmth he generates, the sound of his breath over one shoulder and the strangely gentle touch he has on my arm.

He holds until I've got my balance back. "Thanks," I mumble, and he lets go quickly.

"Don't mention it." Kai's tone tells me that he's dismissed it already. I'm not entirely sure how to take it, so I say nothing else.

Deciding to keep a hand on the wall for safety, I sigh and decide to break the silence. "If they find us, you better have a really good excuse --"

"Shh."

I clamp my mouth shut obediently. For the first time, it occurs to me that I've started listening to him too much for my own good. Kai may not pass out orders without an excellent reason behind it, but he's not my coach anymore… or my team mate.

The sound of people running comes closer; I can feel Kai tense. From the sound of voices bantering back and forth, or tossing information, I count five - maybe six - individuals. The moment when they're right across from the door is when they're loudest. Neither Kai or I breathe, even when their voices fade as they move further away. Kai's plan has worked, but we hold our breath for at least another minute.

By then, a new noise has started - the sound of a thousand excited fans streaming out from the nearest stairwell, funnelled through the stadium by bright signage, officials, and the general understanding that all stadiums are the same.

"Damnit," I mutter.

We're going to be here for a while. I wouldn't mind so much, if I knew where the hell Kai was in here.

****

**X X X**

It's a full hour before we can be safely assured that the flood has slowed to an insignificant trickle. Even then, we only take baby steps down the hall until we're sure that the coast is clear. After standing in the dark for so long (we never found the light switch) everything has a strange too-bright quality to it. My eyes are streaming, though Kai doesn't seem affected.

This time we move a lot faster than before, trotting down steps only when we know the hallway is clear. Kai seems to be hell bent on taking every shortcut he knows, until I've almost completely lost my sense of direction.

At last we burst out of one of the stadium's side doors and into the bright, warm sunlight. The boulevard is still as busy as it was before, but no-one looks twice as Kai and myself carefully merge with the flow of pedestrian traffic.

Kai hasn't said much since he hid us both in that cupboard and like always, I wonder what he's thinking when he's silent, even if I'm not game enough to ask. Thus it is that we continue on quietly, until I find myself rubbing my forehead tiredly. "It's time for coffee," I tell my friend in a mutter.

Strangely, he comes to a stop. As I look up, I realise that he's gesturing to a vendor that stands only a few metres in front of us. "I thought it might be," Kai answers.

Realising that we're at a the exact place I want to be, I throw him the same accusing look that I used on the plane - he knows me better than I thought. Choosing to dismiss it with a shake of my head, I step forwards to order. Kai follows automatically but doesn't throw anything in for himself.

Pocketing my change and moving off to the side to wait for a straight black, I can't help but lapse into thought. The match we witnessed, although having a predictable outcome, was nothing short of incredible. The memory alone of Black Dranzer's power is enough to send a shiver down my spine, especially in this early-afternoon winter sun.

"Hey, Kai," I begin, turning to face him. "Where…"

Kai's gone. I turn to the other side immediately, but he's not there either. I turn in a circle, now scanning every nearby person with sudden worry. 'The Great Hiwatari', although independent and unpredictable, knows a few basic things about communication - like _telling someone _that you're walking away, whether for a little or a long time.

So why would he just.., vanish?

I turn one more time, my heart slowly sinking as I realise that he's not there… at _all_. All kinds of questions come to mind - did he say something and I just didn't hear it? If not, why didn't he say something? Was he told not to? By who? What if he left of his own choice? Why would he do that?

_You're being irrational_, I tell myself, even if I'm not going to listen. The vendor signals that my cup is ready, and collecting it absently, there's a new depth of comfort in holding the hot polystyrene that has nothing to do with the winter air.

The first time that Kai showed up unexpectedly, outside of a Stadium, I had coffee. He led me to this place… Not just to the coffee, but to New York, to this world of suspicions and guesses about BioVolt's intentions.

Maybe if I stand right here, with this coffee, he'll come back.

Until he does, I want nothing else.

So I stand and I wait, scanning the passing crowd constantly - and then, a flash of blue catches my attention. I perk up, ready to approach the male whom it belongs to… only to recognise it's _Hiro.._. coming this way. I frown at this: what is the Chairman doing out _here_? I'm so caught up in questioning it that I don't realise he's not alone until the very last minute.

With a sudden thrill I realise that Kai is back, a step behind and a little to the left of Hiro. I straighten up and break into the first real grin (albeit filled with relief) since I encountered him in Japan. My reward is a slight smile of his own. It's not much by the world's standards, but that's still a lot for him.

I almost lost him, so I should be pissed… but I can't do that when I can't stop smiling, even when the two of them are close enough to reach out and touch.

"Where did you go?" I ask, skipping over the miscellaneous greetings and pleasantries.

"I needed to talk to Hiro," He answers, arms folding easily now that he's come to a stop.

I huff at that, and to my best to avoid sounding sulky. "A little warning would be nice."

"Then I will warn you next time," Kai concedes. "At the moment, though, Hiro has something for us," he adds, with a nod in the Chairman's direction.

I eye the folder he's holding with suspicion. "… _Us_?"

"Yep. I got Max and Kenny to dig up everything they could, on our friend Tai. His history, his stats, his Bitbeast," Hiro answers, passing the folder to Kai, "Everything from the colour of his eyes to how many freckles he has."

I frown. It's an awful lot of attention for someone who just happens to have a powerful Beyblade, BioVolt minion or not. "Why?"

"Because if we're going to get him on our side, and get Black Dranzer back, we need to know everything about him," Kai answers absently. He's opened the folder already.

"You do this with all your friends?" I ask Hiro cooly. The older man has the grace to look sheepish.

"You missed something," Kai says suddenly, looking up from the data he's been engrossed with.

"What?" Both Hiro and myself ask it at the same time, but our voices blend together and it sounds the same.

Kai's red eyes blink at us before he answers calmly, "How long he's been with BioVolt."

Hiro shrugs helplessly. "Well, his records don't go very far back, but it's stated in several places that he's been there since he was a kid -"

"Hiro, _I_ was there as a kid. I can tell you that he was not."

Taking a sip from my coffee, I decide to throw in two cents to what appears to be a growing debate. "BioVolt doesn't have more than one facility?"

Kai's sigh comes from limited patience. He's an excellent teacher - but I know how he hates being questioned. "Look. At the earliest opportunity, Boris and Voltaire single out their most promising Bladers - the ones who will make up their elite fighters, to lead teams or infiltrate other ones. I was one of them, for a time - and in that time, we went _all over the world_, to every training facility to cross-examine _every_ scenario. I might've been a kid at the time, but I can tell you that until he appeared this year, I have never seen him before."

It's a lot of words for someone who doesn't normally talk - both Hiro and I recognise this, with a quiet glance to each other. "So you think it's a lie," Hiro says.

Kai's eyes narrow. "I _know_ it's a lie."

I shake my head, interjecting again. "So he joined them after you left, or maybe he was just really young at the time."

Hiro's got a calculating look on his face. "If they train their best from a young age… why would they waste their time acquiring older Bladers?" he asks, but it's in a murmur and not directed at either of us.

"Because he was exceptionally good…" Kai answers anyway, flicking another page in the folder. "Even before becoming one of theirs. That's the only possible reason."

I'm sure there is more on his mind than just these strung out thoughts, but I can't make myself call him on it. Finally, he shuts the folder with a 'fwap'. "I'm going to Battle him," he says decisively.

"A street challenge?" Hiro tilts his head. "That'll draw a lot of attention."

Kai snorts lightly - an obvious no. I watch him as he studies the printed name on the front of the folder. "I'm going to fight him in the Exhibition Match," he says, looking up to Hiro and me. "Instead of you."

My jaw wants to hit the ground, and Hiro's silent for all of three seconds before spluttering a protest that is destined to fall on deaf ears.

It's obvious that Kai is not going to leave this up for debate. He ignores Hiro's protests, turning away with the folder still in his hands. In three steps he's vanished completely into the crowd. I've always said that he's too damn good at hiding, although it suits him perfectly to do so.

My heart's sinking again. "That's Kai for you," I mutter.

Hiro throws me a dark look as I take a fresh swig of coffee, but doesn't disagree.

****

X X X

To be continued.


	8. Zero Eight

**Switchblade: Zero-Eight.**

**X X X**

It's 4.27 in the morning. I'm standing braced against the sink in a hotel bathroom, peering into the mirror whilst one hand rubs at my bleary eyes.

"Rei Kon, you look like crap," I declare in a mutter.

I'm probably the only one on this floor who's awake. After the day just gone, I should by all accounts be exhausted: sleeping like most would be.

But I'm not. I haven't slept a wink since returning to the hotel after Tai's match against Abigail – though not from lack of trying. I just can't get Kai's voice out of my head; the steadfast declaration that instead of Hiro, _he_ is going to battle BioVolt's number one minion, and in doing so turn the Beyblading world up-side down.

"Or maybe right-side up," I add quietly. "If we're talking about the world from Kai's point of view, it's already up-side down." It's easy to ignore the fact I'm talking to myself.

An attempt to run my hand through my hair only ends with more of it sticking in a whole new variety of unflattering angles, and a sound of disgust for the effort. I surrender the effort of trying to look presentable – even though there's no audience save myself – and I put my back to the mirror. Shuffling out of the pokey bathroom and into the main room, I'm greeted by the bright red LED lights of the clock next to the bed. Halfway to the light switch, I pause. Something's rattling.

In a flash of realization, my eyes land on the door the door – the handle's moving.

I stare at it in disbelief, wondering why on earth someone would be trying to break into my room. It's overcome swiftly with a wash of indignant anger. Forgetting about the lights, I march to the door and yank at the handle, pulling it open in one swift move.

"Can I help you?" I demand, my eyes falling on the crouching lock picker. Blue hair – smirking eyes. I recognise Kai in a heartbeat.

"Good morning," he greets calmly.

I take a long, deep breath to leash my temper, pull the door the rest of the way open, and take several measured steps back. It's an invitation for him to enter, since that was obviously his aim to begin with.

Kai stands and steps in, shutting the door behind him like a well-trained houseguest... except for the lock-picking part.

The moment it's shut, I don't miss a step. "It's four-thirty in the morning, Kai."

He's pocketing his tools, paying more attention to them than he is to me. When he speaks, it's as if he never heard me at all. "Would you like to go train?" he asks, as though it's the most normal thing in the world to be standing in your friend's hotel room at this hour.

"Train?" I repeat, not bothering to hide my surprise at such a suggestion. "It's New York. It's _winter_. It's not even light. You want to go for a _run_?"

He shrugs, unruffled. "It's not that cold." Of course he'd say that – he comes from a much colder climate.

There's also the theory that Tyson always used to stand by, one that the rest of us only agreed with after a training session. Kai just wasn't born on earth.

Realising my distraction, I put a hand to my head and sigh heavily. "Damnit, Kai. Why couldn't you just knock, like normal people?"

"I thought you might be sleeping," he replies. Then he frowns lightly, watching me. "It would seem I was wrong."

I'm tempted to laugh at the idea of Kai admitting that he isn't right about something. My over-tired cynicism wins out by telling me that it's really not that funny, so I tell him, "I've been up for _hours_."

"Hnh," Kai grunts. His stare is becoming unnerving. I can never tell what he's thinking when he looks at me, even at the best of times. All I can do is hazard a guess and right now, that guess doesn't have a flattering answer.

All I can do is shrug vaguely. "I don't sleep well in hotels," I offer as an excuse. It's too weak to pass scrutiny if Kai sets his mind to it: strangely, though, he accepts it with a short nod.

"If you say so." It seems that he's done with the conversation, and he indicates the door for a second time. "Well?"

"'Well' what?" I ask. Even though I already know the answer, I'm trying to stall for time until I can find the right excuse to avoid going with him.

"Training?"

"It's too cold for that," I answer, trying not to pout. He doesn't soften, because the normal, sleep-healthy version of myself wouldn't hesitate to agree – and we both know it. We dissolve into waiting in silence for either side to forfeit, until he breaks it by assuring me, "We won't be out for very long."

Even being as tired as I am, it's a tempting prospect. Kai expects this, and he waits.

"… Alright," I agree with a grumble, and turn to find my shoes.

Kai says nothing, but I know that he knew I would cave.

**X X X**

His legs are tingling all over; he can feel the blood rushing through them as his circulation works in time with his breathing. He's sweating but only very lightly; in the cool morning air it quickly dries. After a steady twenty-minute run, he stretches out his legs as he waits for Rei to take a drink from the water bubbler. His companion has been suffering the exercise in silence – Kai knows that it's because Rei's a little less fit than he's willing to admit. A sleepless night has become the basis of a convenient excuse; there's a wordless agreement that it's best to leave the pretence at that.

He continues his smooth pattern of warm-down exercises as Rei returns and copies him; their breath creating little clouds in the cold early morning air.

It's this kind of thing that Kai enjoys. Rei is good company when he's more like his old self, and the cool winter morning is refreshing. The air between them is comfortably silent; in a way that would be awkward between any other people. It's a bit after five; there's a shred of light on the horizon, just enough to throw a watery light on the two young adults alone in the little park.

They seem to have a habit of this – of long interludes that hold nothing but silence; as if either of them spoke, all their thoughts, memories, missed conversations would just... pour out. The quiet is safer, because you don't have to say anything. You can't be misunderstood. But eventually, he breaks the silence.

"I'm going to Russia on Friday."

Rei peers at him from under a raised elbow. "Hiro agreed to let you do the Exhibition match?"

Kai shrugs. "He will." He pauses deliberately after the flippant remark, returning the look that Rei's giving him. "I want you to come too."

There's a pause in the Neko-jin, before he says cautiously, "I'm going to the Finals anyway."

Kai nods, choosing to ignore the warning signs that hint at the thin ice he's about to step onto. "I know. But I want you to come with _me_."

In Rei, the pause turns to hesitation. When he does find words, they're rushed, blurted. "What? – Why?"

Kai finds the need to choose his words carefully. "Because I will need your help," he answers.

Rei's watching him with a sharp look. "With what?"

"BioVolt." It's only one word, but those three syllables contain a story that Kai can't put into words.

It doesn't matter – Rei understands immediately. "–you're after Black Dranzer." It's a sharp, swift accusation. Rei's quick thinking pleases him until he remembers that the astute quality is not working in his favour for the moment.

For Kai, the realisation brings about prickly words, the kind that come out of his mouth before his mind can choose whether it wants to say them or not. "If Black Dranzer breaks free, innocent people will be put in danger, as well as the not-so-innocent. The repercussions will be _huge_, Rei, if Tyson fails to control that Bitbeast."

Rei stiffens as though someone's just poured icy water over him. He's silent for a long time and Kai waits apprehensively, knowing in an instant what has triggered the reaction and strangely unwilling to prompt his friend.

Finally, there are words.

"You mean _Tai_," Rei says cautiously.

Kai allows himself to sigh. "No. – Yes."

"_Which is it_, Kai?" The words are so slow that he can tell Rei is within a hair's breadth of dumping the topic altogether.

Kai does his best to try and stay relaxed and in control of this suddenly disastrous conversation. "Both. Rei, Tyson and –"

Rei shakes his head, that cynical part of him – the part that Kai dislikes – taking obdurate roots. "No, Kai. If the only reason you're going after this Tai kid is because of a ghost, then I'm sorry, but you're on your own. Hiro is working on the Black Dranzer issue. You're not needed, so leave the kid alone. "

He allows himself to shrug. "I'm not convinced of that," he answers, stubbornly holding his belief – his trump card – with both hands.

His friend is rubbing his forehead with a hand. "Kai," Rei says carefully, "Maybe you're right and _Tai_ is not fit to handle Black Dranzer. But I'm not going to help you derail some kid's dream of being the World Champion, because you think he just happens to be someone who's dead. Sorry, Kai. I'm not doing this."

Kai isn't sure how to look at the situation: is Rei accepting defeat by allowing him to continue on this path without stopping him, or is he claiming a victory by standing on principle? He doesn't know and with every step that Rei is taking away from him, it seems to matter less and less against the fact that he now has to change the world on his own.

The morning's a lot colder after Rei's left.

**X X X**

"—_Ouch! Stephen's Metal Griffolyon is gonna be feeling that one in the morning."_

"_He sure is, Marley. But it's all good news for Vanessa, 'cause that means she moves onto the next round!" _

"_Yup! And when we regroup in Moscow, she'll be up against a Beyblade that'll be a real challenge."_

"_Ooh, I can't wait to see how that one turns out –"_

At the push of a button, the voices of Marley and Stretch cut to static, then silence. Hiro wrinkled his nose, and moved further into the lab that Max and Kenny were temporarily calling home. He moved leisurely, stopping to examine a new part or a sheet of unfamiliar data. He reasoned that anything that his two scientists wanted to hide would already be hidden – though he doubted a step like that would be necessary.

He reached the end of an aisle and stopped to casually observe the surroundings, noting with a small amount of humour that the clear counter tops meant Kenny hadn't quite settled in yet.

That was just as well – the tournament was moving on, which meant that they would be too.

A blonde-haired head appeared in the doorway across the room, adopting a familiar and pleasant grin as Hiro nodded his greeting. "Hey Max."

"Hallo Mister Chairman," Max answered in a drawl, stepping out of the adjoining room. "Shouldn't you be off doing important business-related things?"

Hiro waved a dismissive hand. "They have ways of finding me if they need to. 'Til then, I reserve the right to hide away."

"Ah, so we're your sanctuary then."

"Kind of. Kenny around?"

Max nodded and indicated the room behind him. "He's in here, testing Metal Driger's agility."

Hiro pursed his lips and moved forwards. "Actually... there might be a bit of a complication with that."

Stepping to one side, Max frowned. "How come?" he asked.

"Kai... wants to do it instead of me."

"What, the exhibition match?" Max's surprised tone neatly summed the situation up. After the fire, Kai had literally disappeared from the Beyblade world overnight. He had stayed in contact – kind of – but only so they didn't go looking for him. So for him to want to battle... it meant coming out of retirement, and that meant something big. "Have you agreed?"

"Not yet," Hiro answered, walking towards his friend. "But he'll do it anyway, so it doesn't matter if I agree or not."

"Has he said why?" Max was still frowning as he moved to one side so that Hiro could fit through the doorway.

Hiro shook his head. "No, but I think it's to do with this Blader," he replied, scanning the room. They were on some kind of little balcony, or viewing platform. There was a coil of steps that wound downwards and out of sight, leading down to what he guessed to be a Beydish. He could hear Metal Driger not too far away; it was enough for him to assume he was right.

"The Blader?" Max huffed a sigh as he led the way to the edge of the platform. "I thought he was just obsessive about the Beyblade."

"So did I. My secretary's working on a new file for the kid, since Kai stole my first one. When that's done we'll be able to look for what Kai saw in him." Hiro followed Max, a hand laying itself on the railing as he surveyed the room below.

It was made up as a miniature stadium, with a Beydish and two podiums for fighters to stand on. Entirely clinical, it was done in shades of grey and white. The rim of the dish had aluminium cans lined up at irregular intervals; Metal Driger was a blur as it moved around them, directed by the young man kneeling next to his laptop. Hiro had to grin at the sight. He couldn't remember the last time he had seen Kenny _not_ working on something.

"Hey, Chief!" Max called, breaking away from the balcony edge to tap down one or two steps. "Look who came to visit."

Kenny glanced up from his work long enough to lift a hand in greeting. "Hi Hiro!"

Hiro returned it with a wave of his own, moving to the stairs as well. "Max said you were working on Metal Driger's agility," he said, once he'd reached the bottom.

Kenny nodded, tapping the pause on his recordings before standing. "We're making great progress, and we should be done in time for Moscow."

Hiro winced, and rubbed the side of his face sheepishly. "About that..."

"Kai's doing it," Max interjected.

"The exhibition match?"

"Yeah."

"He's sort of taken it upon himself," Hiro explained, "And I can't stop him. I could try, but Kai'll just do it his way anyway."

"So you don't need Metal Driger to be in top shape for the match," Kenny said slowly.

Max wore an apologetic smile as he answered. "... Sorry, Chief."

"Hm. Okay. Do you want me to look Dranzer over?" the scientist asked. If either of his friends thought he was handling the rejection well, neither was game enough to make a point of it.

Hiro shrugged. "If you can find him, be my guest. But before you do that, I have another request."

Kenny was on his feet by now, laptop tucked under one arm. "Sure," he answered, regardless of what the request actually was. Hiro was good at what he did – he didn't ask for things without solid motivation.

They were the kind of attributes that had made him a good Chairman and a great coach.

Max indicated the Lab upstairs. "Why don't you get your data set up for download, Chief? Hiro and me will bring the other stuff up."

Kenny nodded and moved off. "I'll see you upstairs."

As the young man jogged up the stairs, Max collected the aluminium cans. "He took that well," the blond said quietly. "He's been working on your Driger for months."

"I know," Hiro answered as he recalled his Beyblade, catching it neatly. "But I think he'll like what I have in store for the both of you."

"What is it?" Max asked, stepping down from the rim around the Beydish.

Hiro grinned, pocketing Driger as he walked towards the stairs. "Come upstairs and see."

**X X X**

By the time they reached upstairs, Kenny had managed to clear a space on an overcrowded bench top, leaving a pile of tools and old printouts shoved to one side, where they teetered threateningly on the edge. The screen was a blur of colour and download bars, the data transferring from the little machine and onto the larger desktop next to it. Kenny was tapping away at both keyboards, flicking from one to the other with each new dialogue box.

Wandering up from behind, Max deposited the cans in a nearby bin, whilst Hiro took a seat at an adjacent terminal. He swung idly on the chair as he waited, hands playing loosely with Metal Driger.

"You take care of that," Max commented, returning and taking a seat closer to Kenny. "I don't think he's quite finished working on it."

Hiro grinned in answer, running a thumb over the new attack ring. "I'll remember," he replied in a drawl

Kenny pushed away from the desk and swivelled around to face his friends. "Ready!" he declared. "What's up your sleeve, Hiro?"

The Chairman sat back, turning Driger over in his hands. "I have a repair job for the two of you," he began, "A big one. The only thing that wasn't damaged was the BitBeast – everything else will need work."

Max nodded, unconcerned. They did this sort of thing frequently: Repairs and Maintenance was slowly being merged into Research and Development, making it more their department by the month. "So what's the deadline?"

Hiro took a breath. "The finals."

"- _What_?!"

Kenny sat up straight in his chair. "That's less than a week, Hiro!"

"I know, I'm sorry," Hiro replied hastily, "I should have realised earlier that it would be necessary."

The little scientist sighed and slumped back in his chair. Despite the sudden workload, Hiro could tell that he wasn't too upset. This was why Kenny took the job in the first place – pressure. Deadlines. Things that put you on Autopilot, so you didn't have to think. "Alright... I'll see what I can do."

"Thanks, Kenny," Hiro answered with a grin. "I'll make it up to you."

"Where's the Beyblade?" Max asked, "Still with the Blader?"

Hiro shook his head, pocketing Metal Driger before pulling out a small box. "It's here." The lid was hinged and was easy to flip out of the way, the contents then held out in presentation.

Max took one look at it and found himself on his feet, pulling the box from his boss's hand. "—_Hiro_."

Kenny followed. "How long have you been carrying that?" he asked, running a thumb over the twisted, charred remains. Dragoon glowed faintly in recognition, the only piece that hadn't been ruined by the fire.

Hiro rubbed his nose, not willing to give a definitive answer. "A while. Can you do it?"

Kenny gently prised Dragoon from the box, examining the Beyblade's every angle as he turned it over in his hands. "It'll be tough... I don't think there's anything that can be recycled. It'll have to be from scratch..."

"So that's a yes?"

Max smiled softly and answered, "Hiro, how could we refuse?"

Kenny nodded in agreement with his friend, then paused. "Just... why do you need it?"

"I... I don't know, honestly," Hiro replied with a shrug, "I just get the feeling that we're going to need it, especially if things go foul with Black Dranzer." He didn't mention that there was no-one here to actually /use/ Dragoon – no-one dreamt of 'inheriting' the Beyblade, and Tyson hadn't exactly had a successor. Daichi might have counted... but no-one had seen him in years.

Fortunately, neither Kenny nor Max seemed inclined to mention it either. Hiro could only hope that they felt what he felt – that something big was going to happen. Something life-changing. Maybe restoring Dragoon wouldn't do anything. Maybe it would. There was no way to tell.

"Hm. Alright." Max didn't press the issue, apparently satisfied with the answer. He moved off across the lab, grabbing his lab coat from a table. Parts had been strewn all over it, leaving grease marks and stains. They clinked as he pulled the coat out, tugging it on over his business clothes. Unlike Hiro, he liked to watch the matches when he could, and to do so he'd had to dress respectably. "Leave it with us, Hiro."

Kenny was already going in the other direction, arrested by the new task. "I'll get started on the diagnostics."

"We'll have it up and running by Finals," Max told Hiro confidently, logging into a computer. "We'll take good care of it."

Hiro nodded, leaving them to it as he back-tracked from the lab. "Thanks, guys."

There was no answer for the Chairman, just the sound of two men diving head-first into a project where there was no time for second chances.

**X X X**

**To be continued.**


End file.
